University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

From  the  Collection  of 
Joseph  Z.  Todd 

Gift  of 
Hatherly  B.  Todd 


ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVENSON 


Vol.  X 


THE   WRECKER 


*  THE  NOVELS  AND 
TALES  OF  ROBERT 
LOUIS   STEVENSON 


THE  WRECKER 


^PUBLISHED  IN 
NEW  YORK  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S 
SONS     *     *      1907     * 


Copyright,  1 891,  by 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson  and 

Lloyd  Osbourne. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  WRECKER 

Written  in  collaboration  with  Lloyd  Osbourne. 

PROLOGUE i 

THE  YARN !5 

EPILOGUE 49* 


THE  WRECKER 


PROLOGUE 

PAGE 

In  the  Marquesas I 


THE  YARN 

CHAPTER 

I    A  Sound  Commercial  Education 15 

II    Roussillon  Wine 30 

III  To  Introduce  Mr.  Pinkerton 43 

IV  In  which  I  experience  Extremes  of  Fortune    ....  61 

V  In  which  I  am  down  on  my  Luck  in  Paris       ....  77 
VI    In  which  I  go  West 95 

VII     Irons  in  the  Fjre  :   "Opes  Strepitumque" 113 

VIII     Faces  on  the  City  Front 141 

IX    The  Wreck  of  the  "Flying  Scud" 156 

X    In  which  the  Crew  vanish 173 

XI    In  which  Jim  and  I  take  Different  Ways 202 

XII    The  "Norah  Creina" 220 

XIII  The  Island  and  the  Wreck 239 

XIV  The  Cabin  of  the  "Flying  Scud" 253 

XV    The  Cargo  of  the  "Flying  Scud" 270 

XVI  In  which  I  turn  Smuggler,  and  the  Captain  Casuist    .  286 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII     Light  from  the  Man  of  War 301 

XVIII     Cross-Questions  and  Crooked  Answers 318 

XIX    Travels  with  a  Shyster 336 

XX    Stallbridge-le-Carthew ,     .     .     .     .  }6) 

XXI     Face  to  Face 378 

XXII     The  Remittance  Man 388 

XXIII  The  Budget  of  the  "Currency  Lass" 417 

XXIV  A  Hard  Bargain 447 

XXV    A  Bad  Bargain 464 

EPILOGUE 

To  Will  H.  Low .491 


is 


THE  WRECKER 

Written  in  Collaboration  with  Lloyd  Osbourne 


THE  WRECKER 

PROLOGUE 

IN  THE   MARQUESAS 

IT  was  about  three  o'clock  of  a  winter's  afternoon  in 
Tai-o-hae,  the  French  capital  and  port  of  entry  of  the 
Marquesas  Islands.  The  trades  blew  strong  and  squally ; 
the  surf  roared  loud  on  the  shingle  beach ;  and  the  fifty- 
ton  schooner  of  war,  that  carries  the  flag  and  influence 
of  France  about  the  islands  of  the  cannibal  group,  rolled 
at  her  moorings  under  Prison  Hill.  The  clouds  hung 
low  and  black  on  the  surrounding  amphitheatre  of 
mountains ;  rain  had  fallen  earlier  in  the  day,  real  tropic 
rain,  a  waterspout  for  violence;  and  the  green  and 
gloomy  brow  of  the  mountain  was  still  seamed  with 
many  silver  threads  of  torrent. 

In  these  hot  and  healthy  islands  winter  is  but  a  name. 
The  rain  had  not  refreshed,  nor  could  the  wind  invigo- 
rate, the  dwellers  of  Tai-o-hae :  away  at  one  end,  indeed, 
the  commandant  was  directing  some  changes  in  the 
residency  garden  beyond  Prison  Hill ;  and  the  garden- 
ers, being  all  convicts,  had  no  choice  but  to  continue  to 
obey.     All  other  folks  slumbered  and  took  their  rest : 


THE  WRECKER 

Vaekehu,  the  native  queen,  in  her  trim  house  under  the 
rustling  palms;  the  Tahitian  commissary,  in  his  be- 
flagged  official  residence;  the  merchants,  in  their  de- 
serted stores ;  and  even  the  club-servant  in  the  club,  his 
head  fallen  forward  on  the  bottle-counter,  under  the 
map  of  the  world  and  the  cards  of  navy  officers.  In  the 
whole  length  of  the  single  shoreside  street,  with  its 
scattered  board  houses  looking  to  the  sea,  its  grateful 
shade  of  palms  and  green  jungle  of  puraos,  no  moving 
figure  could  be  seen.  Only,  at  the  end  of  the  rickety 
pier,  that  once  (in  the  prosperous  days  of  the  American 
rebellion)  was  used  to  groan  under  the  cotton  of  John 
Hart,  there  might  have  been  spied  upon  a  pile  of  lumber 
the  famous  tattooed  white  man,  the  living  curiosity  of 
Tai-o-hae. 

His  eyes  were  open,  staring  down  the  bay.  He  saw 
the  mountains  droop,  as  they  approached  the  entrance, 
and  break  down  in  cliffs ;  the  surf  boil  white  round  the 
two  sentinel  islets ;  and  between,  on  the  narrow  bight 
of  blue  horizon,  Ua-pu  upraise  the  ghost  of  her  pinna- 
cled mountain  tops.  But  his  mind  would  take  no  ac- 
count of  these  familiar  features ;  as  he  dodged  in  and 
out  along  the  frontier  line  of  sleep  and  waking,  memory 
would  serve  him  with  broken  fragments  of  the  past: 
brown  faces  and  white,  of  skipper  and  shipmate,  king 
and  chief,  would  arise  before  his  mind  and  vanish ;  he 
would  recall  old  voyages,  old  landfalls  in  the  hour  of 
dawn ;  he  would  hear  again  the  drums  beat  for  a  man- 
eating  festival ;  perhaps  he  would  summon  up  the  form 
of  that  island  princess  for  the  love  of  whom  he  had  sub- 
mitted his  body  to  the  cruel  hands  of  the  tattooer,  and 
now  sat  on  the  lumber,  at  the  pier-end  of  Tai-o-hae,  so 


IN   THE  MARQUESAS 

strange  a  figure  of  a  European.  Or  perhaps  from  yet 
further  back,  sounds  and  scents  of  England  and  his 
childhood  might  assail  him:  the  merry  clamour  of  ca- 
thedral bells,  the  broom  upon  the  foreland,  the  song 
of  the  river  on  the  weir. 

It  is  bold  water  at  the  mouth  of  the  bay ;  you  can 
steer  a  ship  about  either  sentinel,  close  enough  to  toss 
a  biscuit  on  the  rocks.  Thus  it  chanced  that,  as  the 
tattooed  man  sat  dozing  and  dreaming,  he  was  startled 
into  wakefulness  and  animation  by  the  appearance  of  a 
flying  jib  beyond  the  western  islet.  Two  more  head- 
sails  followed ;  and  before  the  tattooed  man  had  scram- 
bled to  his  feet,  a  topsail  schooner,  of  some  hundred 
tons,  had  luffed  about  the  sentinel  and  was  standing  up 
the  bay,  close-hauled. 

The  sleeping  city  awakened  by  enchantment.  Na- 
tives appeared  upon  all  sides,  hailing  each  other  with 
the  magic  cry  "Ehippy" — ship;  the  Queen  stepped 
forth  on  her  verandah,  shading  her  eyes  under  a  hand 
that  was  a  miracle  of  the  fine  art  of  tattooing;  the  com- 
mandant broke  from  his  domestic  convicts  and  ran  into 
the  residency  for  his  glass;  the  harbour  master,  who 
was  also  the  gaoler,  came  speeding  down  the  Prison 
Hill;  the  seventeen  brown  Kanakas  and  the  French 
boatswain's  mate,  that  make  up  the  complement  of 
the  war-schooner,  crowded  on  the  forward  deck;  and 
the  various  English,  Americans,  Germans,  Poles,  Corsi- 
cans,  and  Scots — the  merchants  and  the  clerks  of  Tai-o- 
hae — deserted  their  places  of  business,  and  gathered, 
according  to  invariable  custom,  on  the  road  before  the 
club. 

So  quickly  did  these  dozen  whites  collect,  so  short 


THE  WRECKER 

are  the  distances  in  Tai-o-hae,  that  they  were  already 
exchanging  guesses  as  to  the  nationality  and  business 
of  the  strange  vessel,  before  she  had  gone  about  upon 
her  second  board  towards  the  anchorage.  A  moment 
after,  English  colours  were  broken  out  at  the  main 
truck. 

"1  told  you  she  was  a  Johnny  Bull  —  knew  it  by  her 
headsails,"  said  an  evergreen  old  salt,  still  qualified  (if 
he  could  anywhere  have  found  an  owner  unacquainted 
with  his  story)  to  adorn  another  quarter-deck  and  lose 
another  ship. 

"She  has  American  lines,  anyway,"  said  the  astute 
Scotch  engineer  of  the  gin-mill;  "  it's  my  belief  she's  a 
yacht." 

"That's  it,"  said  the  old  salt,  "a  yacht!  look  at  her 
davits,  and  the  boat  over  the  stern." 

"A  yacht  in  your  eye!"  said  a  Glasgow  voice. 
"Look  at  her  red  ensign!  A  yacht!  not  much  she 
isn't!" 

"You  can  close  the  store,  anyway,  Tom,"  observed 
a  gentlemanly  German.  "Bon  jour,  mon  Prince!  "  he 
added,  as  a  dark,  intelligent  native  cantered  by  on  a 
neat  chestnut.     "Vous  alle^  boire  une  verre  de  biere  ?  ' ' 

But  Prince  Stanilas  Moanatini,  the  only  reasonably 
busy  human  creature  on  the  island,  was  riding  hot-spur 
to  view  this  morning's  landslip  on  the  mountain  road : 
the  sun  already  visibly  declined;  night  was  imminent; 
and  if  he  would  avoid  the  perils  of  darkness  and  preci- 
pice, and  the  fear  of  the  dead,  the  haunters  of  the  jungle, 
he  must  for  once  decline  a  hospitable  invitation.  Even 
had  he  been  minded  to  alight,  it  presently  appeared  there 
would  be  difficulty  as  to  the  refreshment  offered. 

4 


IN  THE  MARQUESAS 

"  Beer ! "  cried  the  Glasgow  voice.  • '  No  such  a  thing ; 
I  tell  you  there's  only  eight  bottles  in  the  club!  Here's 
the  first  time  I've  seen  British  colours  in  this  port!  and 
the  man  that  sails  under  them  has  got  to  drink  that 
beer." 

The  proposal  struck  the  public  mind  as  fair,  though 
far  from  cheering;  for  some  time  back,  indeed,  the  very 
name  of  beer  had  been  a  sound  of  sorrow  in  the  club, 
and  the  evenings  had  passed  in  dolorous  computation. 

"  Here  is  Havens,"  said  one,  as  if  welcoming  a  fresh 
topic.     "  What  do  you  think  of  her,  Havens  ?  " 

"I  don't  think,"  replied  Havens,  a  tall,  bland,  cool- 
looking,  leisurely  Englishman,  attired  in  spotless  duck, 
and  deliberately  dealing  with  a  cigarette.  "I  may  say 
I  know.  She's  consigned  to  me  from  Auckland  by  Don- 
ald &  Edenborough.     I  am  on  my  way  aboard." 

"What  ship  is  she?"  asked  the  ancient  mariner. 

" Haven't  an  idea,"  returned  Havens.  "Some tramp 
they  have  chartered." 

With  that,  he  placidly  resumed  his  walk,  and  was 
soon  seated  in  the  stern-sheets  of  a  whaleboat  manned 
by  uproarious  Kanakas,  himself  daintily  perched  out  of 
the  way  of  the  least  maculation,  giving  his  commands 
in  an  unobtrusive,  dinner-table  tone  of  voice,  and  sweep- 
ing neatly  enough  alongside  the  schooner. 

A  weather-beaten  captain  received  him  at  the  gang- 
way. 

"  You  are  consigned  to  us,  I  think,"  said  he.  "I  am 
Mr.  Havens." 

"That  is  right,  sir,"  replied  the  captain,  shaking 
hands.  "You  will  find  the  owner,  Mr.  Dodd,  below. 
Mind  the  fresh  paint  on  the  house." 

5 


THE  WRECKER 

Havens  stepped  along  the  alley-way,  and  descended 
the  ladder  into  the  main  cabin. 

"Mr.  Dodd,  I  believe,"  said  he,  addressing  a  small- 
ish, bearded  gentleman,  who  sat  writing  at  the  table. 
"  Why,"  he  cried,  "  it  isn't  Loudon  Dodd  ?  " 

"Myself,  my  dear  fellow,"  replied  Mr.  Dodd,  spring- 
ing to  his  feet  with  companionable  alacrity.  M  I  had  a 
half-hope  it  might  be  you,  when  I  found  your  name  on 
the  papers.  Well,  there's  no  change  in  you;  still  the 
same  placid,  fresh-looking  Britisher." 

"I  can't  return  the  compliment;  for  you  seem  t  >  have 
become  a  Britisher  yourself,"  said  Havens. 

"I  promise  you,  I  am  quite  unchanged,"  returned 
Dodd.  "The  red  tablecloth  at  the  top  of  the  stick  is 
not  my  flag;  it's  my  partner's.  He  is  not  dead,  but 
sleepeth.  There  he  is,"  he  added,  pointing  to  a  bust 
which  formed  one  of  the  numerous  unexpected  orna- 
ments of  that  unusual  cabin. 

Havens  politely  studied  it.  "A  fine  bust,"  said  he; 
"and  a  very  nice-looking  fellow." 

"Yes;  he's  a  good  fellow,  "said  Dodd.  "He  runs  me 
now.     It's  all  his  money." 

' '  He  doesn't  seem  to  be  particularly  short  of  it, "  added 
the  other,  peering  with  growing  wonder  round  the  cabin. 

"His  money,  my  taste,"  said  Dodd.  "The  black- 
walnut  bookshelves  are  Old  English ;  the  books  all  mine, 
—  mostly  Renaissance  French.  You  should  see  how 
the  beach-combers  wilt  away  when  they  go  round  them 
looking  for  a  change  of  Seaside  Library  novels.  The 
mirrors  are  genuine  Venice;  that's  a  good  piece  in  the 
corner.  The  daubs  are  mine  —  and  his;  the  mudding 
mine." 

6 


IN  THE  MARQUESAS 

"  Mudding  ?    What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Havens. 

" These  bronzes,"  replied  Dodd.  "I  began  life  as  a 
sculptor." 

"  Yes;  I  remember  something  about  that,"  said  the 
other.  "I  think,  too,  you  said  you  were  interested  in 
Californian  real  estate." 

"Surely,  I  never  went  so  far  as  that,"  said  Dodd. 
"Interested?  I  guess  not.  Involved,  perhaps.  I  was 
born  an  artist;  I  never  took  an  interest  in  anything  but 
art.  If  I  were  to  pile  up  this  old  schooner  to-morrow," 
he  added,  "I  declare  I  believe  I  would  try  the  thing 
again! " 

"Insured?"  inquired  Havens. 

"Yes,"  responded  Dodd.  "There's  some  fool  in 
'Frisco  who  insures  us,  and  comes  down  like  a  wolf  on 
the  fold  on  the  profits;  but  we'll  get  even  with  him 
some  day." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it's  all  right  about  the  cargo,"  said 
Havens. 

"O,  I  suppose  so!"  replied  Dodd.  "Shall  we  go 
into  the  papers  ?  " 

"We'll  have  all  to-morrow,  you  know,"  said  Havens; 
"  and  they'll  be  rather  expecting  you  at  the  club.  C'est 
Vheure  de  I' absinthe.  Of  course,  Loudon,  you'll  dine 
with  me  later  on." 

Mr.  Dodd  signified  his  acquiescence;  drew  on  his 
white  coat,  not  without  a  trifling  difficulty,  for  he  was 
a  man  of  middle  age,  and  well-to-do ;  arranged  his  beard 
and  moustaches  at  one  of  the  Venetian  mirrors;  and, 
taking  a  broad  felt  hat,  led  the  way  through  the  trade- 
room  into  the  ship's  waist. 

The  stern  boat  was  waiting  alongside, — a  boat  of  an 

7 


THE  WRECKER 

elegant  model,  with  cushions  and  polished  hard-wood 
fittings. 

"You  steer,"  observed  Loudon.  "You  know  the 
best  place  to  land." 

"I  never  like  to  steer  another  man's  boat,"  replied 
Havens. 

"  Call  it  my  partner's,  and  cry  quits,"  returned  Lou- 
don, getting  nonchalantly  down  the  side. 

Havens  followed  and  took  the  yoke  lines  without  fur- 
ther protest.  "  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  how  you  make 
this  pay,"  he  said.  "  To  begin  with,  she  is  too  big  for 
the  trade,  to  my  taste;  and  then  you  carry  so  much 
style." 

"I  don't  know  that  she  does  pay,"  returned  Loudon. 
"I  never  pretend  to  be  a  business  man.  My  partner 
appears  happy ;  and  the  money  is  all  his,  as  I  told  you  — 
I  only  bring  the  want  of  business  habits." 

"You  rather  like  the  berth,  I  suppose  ?"  suggested 
Havens. 

' '  Yes, "  said  Loudon ;  "it  seems  odd,  but  I  rather  do. " 

While  they  were  yet  on  board,  the  sun  had  dipped ; 
the  sunset  gun  (a  rifle)  cracked  from  the  war-schooner, 
and  the  colours  had  been  handed  down.  Dusk  was  deep- 
ening as  they  came  ashore ;  and  the  Cercle  Internationale 
(as  the  club  is  officially  and  significantly  named)  began 
to  shine,  from  under  its  low  verandahs,  with  the  light  of 
many  lamps.  The  good  hours  of  the  twenty-four  drew 
on;  the  hateful,  poisonous  day-fly  of  Nukahiva  was 
beginning  to  desist  from  its  activity;  the  land-breeze 
came  in  refreshing  draughts ;  and  the  club  men  gathered 
together  for  the  hour  of  absinthe.  To  the  commandant 
himself,  to  the  man  whom  he  was  then  contending  with 

8 


IN  THE   MARQUESAS 

at  billiards  —  a  trader  from  the  next  island,  honorary 
member  of  the  club,  and  once  carpenter's  mate  on  board 
a  Yankee  war-ship  —  to  the  doctor  of  the  port,  to  the 
Brigadier  of  Gendarmerie,  to  the  opium  farmer,  and  to 
all  the  white  men  whom  the  tide  of  commerce,  or  the 
chances  of  shipwreck  and  desertion,  had  stranded  on 
the  beach  of  Tai-o-hae,  Mr.  Loudon  Dodd  was  formally 
presented ;  by  all  (since  he  was  a  man  of  pleasing  exte- 
rior, smooth  ways,  and  an  unexceptionable  flow  of  talk, 
whether  in  French  or  English)  he  was  excellently  well 
received;  and  presently,  with  one  of  the  last  eight  bottles 
of  beer  on  a  table  at  his  elbow,  found  himself  the  rather 
silent  centre-piece  of  a  voluble  group  on  the  verandah. 
Talk  in  the  South  Seas  is  all  upon  one  pattern ;  it  is  a 
wide  ocean,  indeed,  but  a  narrow  world :  you  shall 
never  talk  long  and  not  hear  the  name  of  Bully  Hayes,  a 
naval  hero  whose  exploits  and  deserved  extinction  left 
Europe  cold ;  commerce  will  be  touched  on,  copra,  shell, 
perhaps  cotton  or  fungus ;  but  in  a  far-away  dilettante 
fashion,  as  by  men  not  deeply  interested ;  through  all, 
the  names  of  schooners  and  their  captains  will  keep  com- 
ing and  going,  thick  as  may-flies;  and  news  of  the  last 
shipwreck  will  be  placidly  exchanged  and  debated.  To 
a  stranger,  this  conversation  will  at  first  seem  scarcely 
brilliant;  but  he  will  soon  catch  the  tone;  and  by  the 
time  he  shall  have  moved  a  year  or  so  in  the  island 
world,  and  come  across  a  good  number  of  the  schooners, 
so  that  every  captain's  name  calls  up  a  figure  in  pyjamas 
or  white  duck,  and  becomes  used  to  a  certain  laxity  of 
moral  tone  which  prevails  (as  in  memory  of  Mr.  Hayes) 
on  smuggling,  ship-scuttling,  barratry,  piracy,  the  labour 
trade,  and  other  kindred  fields  of  human  activity,  he  will 

9 


THE  WRECKER 

find  Polynesia  no  less  amusing  and  no  less  instructive 
than  Pall  Mall  or  Paris. 

Mr.  Loudon  Dodd,  though  he  was  new  to  the  group 
of  the  Marquesas,  was  already  an  old,  salted  trader;  he 
knew  the  ships  and  the  captains;  he  had  assisted,  in 
other  islands,  at  the  first  steps  of  some  career  of  which 
he  now  heard  the  culmination,  or  {vice  versa)  he  had 
brought  with  him  from  further  south  the  end  of  some 
story  which  had  begun  in  Tai-o-hae.  Among  other 
matter  of  interest,  like  other  arrivals  in  the  South  Seas, 
he  had  a  wreck  to  announce.  The  Jo!:n  T.  Richards, 
it  appeared,  had  met  the  fate  of  other  island  schooners. 

"  Dickinson  piled  her  up  on  Palmerston  Island,''  Dodd 
announced. 

"  Who  were  the  owners  ?  "  inquired  one  of  the  club 
men. 

"  O,  the  usual  parties!"  returned  Loudon, —  "Cap- 
sicum &  Co." 

A  smile  and  a  glance  of  intelligence  went  round  the 
group;  and  perhaps  Loudon  gave  voice  to  the  general 
sentiment  by  remarking,  "Talk  of  good  business!  I 
know  nothing  better  than  a  schooner,  a  competent  cap- 
tain, and  a  sound,  reliable  reef." 

' '  Good  business !  There's  no  such  a  thing !  "  said  the 
Glasgow  man.  ' '  Nobody  makes  anything  but  the  mis- 
sionaries—  dash  it!" 

' '  I  don't  know, "  said  another.  ' '  There's  a  good  deal 
in  opium." 

"It's  a  good  job  to  strike  a  tabooed  pearl-island,  say, 
about  the  fourth  year,"  remarked  a  third;  "skim  the 
whole  lagoon  on  the  sly,  and  up  stick  and  away  before 
the  French  get  wind  of  you." 


IN   THE  MARQUESAS 

"A  pig  nokket  of  cold  is  good,"  observed  a  German. 

"There's  something  in  wrecks,  too,"  said  Havens. 
"Look  at  that  man  in  Honolulu,  and  the  ship  that  went 
ashore  on  Waikiki  Reef;  it  was  blowing  a  kona,  hard ; 
and  she  began  to  break  up  as  soon  as  she  touched. 
Lloyd's  agent  had  her  sold  inside  an  hour;  and  before 
dark,  when  she  went  to  pieces  in  earnest,  the  man  that 
bought  her  had  feathered  his  nest.  Three  more  hours 
of  daylight,  and  he  might  have  retired  from  business. 
As  it  was,  he  built  a  house  on  Beretania  Street,  and 
called  it  for  the  ship." 

"  Yes,  there's  something  in  wrecks  sometimes,"  said 
the  Glasgow  voice;  "but  not  often." 

"As  a  general  rule,  there's  deuced  little  in  anything," 
said  Havens. 

"Well,  I  believe  that's  a  Christian  fact,"  cried  the 
other.  ' '  What  I  want  is  a  secret ;  get  hold  of  a  rich 
man  by  the  right  place,  and  make  him  squeal." 

"I  suppose  you  know  it's  not  thought  to  be  the 
ticket,"  returned  Havens. 

"I  don't  care  for  that;  it's  good  enough  forme,"  cried 
the  man  from  Glasgow,  stoutly.  "The  only  devil  of  it 
is,  a  fellow  can  never  find  a  secret  in  a  place  like  the 
South  Seas:  only  in  London  and  Paris." 

"McGibbon's  been  reading  some  dime-novel,  I  sup- 
pose," said  one  club  man. 

■  ■  He's  been  reading  Aurora  Floyd, '  'remarked  another. 

"And  what  if  I  have?"  cried  McGibbon.  "It's  all 
true.  Look  at  the  newspapers!  It's  just  your  con- 
founded ignorance  that  sets  you  snickering.  I  tell  you, 
it's  as  much  a  trade  as  underwriting,  and  a  dashed  sight 
more  honest." 

u 


THE  WRECKER 

The  sudden  acrimony  of  these  remarks  called  Loudon 
(who  was  a  man  of  peace)  from  his  reserve.  "It's 
rather  singular,"  said  he,  "but  I  seem  to  have  practised 
about  all  these  means  of  livelihood." 

"  Tit  you  effer  vind  a  nokket  ?"  inquired  the  inartic- 
ulate German,  eagerly. 

"No.  I  have  been  most  kinds  of  fool  in  my  time," 
returned  Loudon,  "but  not  the  gold-digging  variety. 
Every  man  has  a  sane  spot  somewhere." 

"Well,  then,"  suggested  some  one,  "did  you  ever 
smuggle  opium  ?" 

"Yes,  I  did,"  said  Loudon. 

"  Was  there  money  in  that  ?  " 

"All  the  way,"  responded  Loudon. 

"  And  perhaps  you  bought  a  wreck  ?  "  asked  another. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Loudon. 

" How  did  that  pan  out?"  pursued  the  questioner. 

"Well,  mine  was  a  peculiar  kind  of  wreck,"  replied 
Loudon.  "I  don't  know,  on  the  whole,  that  I  can 
recommend  that  branch  of  industry." 

"  Did  she  break  up  ?  "  asked  some  one. 

"I  guess  it  was  rather  I  that  broke  down,"  says 
Loudon.     "  Head  not  big  enough." 

"Ever  try  the  blackmail  ? "  inquired  Havens. 

"Simple  as  you  see  me  sitting  here!"  responded 
Dodd. 

"Good  business  ?" 

"Well,  I'm  not  a  lucky  man,  you  see,"  returned  the 
stranger.     "  It  ought  to  have  been  good." 

"You  had  a  secret?"  asked  the  Glasgow  man. 

"  As  big  as  the  State  of  Texas." 

"And  the  other  man  was  rich  ?" 


IN   THE   MARQUESAS 

"He  wasn't  exactly  Jay  Gould,  but  I  guess  he  could 
buy  these  islands  if  he  wanted." 

"Why,  what  was  wrong,  then?  Couldn't  you  get 
hands  on  him  ?" 

"It  took  time,  but  I  had  him  cornered  at  last;  and 
then " 

"What  then?" 

"The  speculation  turned  bottom  up.  I  became  the 
man's  bosom  friend." 

"  The  deuce  you  did ! " 

"He  couldn't  have  been  particular,  you  mean?" 
asked  Dodd,  pleasantly.  "Well,  no;  he's  a  man  of 
rather  large  sympathies." 

"  If  you're  done  talking  nonsense,  Loudon,"  said 
Havens,  "let's  be  getting  to  my  place  for  dinner." 

Outside,  the  night  was  full  of  the  roaring  of  the  surf. 
Scattered  lights  glowed  in  the  green  thicket.  Native 
women  came  by  twos  and  threes  out  of  the  darkness, 
smiled  and  ogled  the  two  whites,  perhaps  wooed  them 
with  a  strain  of  laughter,  and  went  by  again,  bequeath- 
ing to  the  air  a  heady  perfume  of  palm-oil  and  frangipani 
blossom.  From  the  club  to  Mr.  Havens's  residence  was 
but  a  step  or  two,  and  to  any  dweller  in  Europe  they 
must  have  seemed  steps  in  fairyland.  If  such  an  one 
could  but  have  followed  our  two  friends  into  the  wide- 
verandahed  house,  sat  down  with  them  in  the  cool  trel- 
lised  room,  where  the  wine  shone  on  the  lamp-lighted 
tablecloth ;  tasted  of  their  exotic  food  —  the  raw  fish, 
the  breadfruit,  the  cooked  bananas,  the  roast  pig  served 
with  the  inimitable  miti,  and  that  king  of  delicacies, 
palm-tree  salad ;  seen  and  heard  by  fits  and  starts,  now 
peering  round  the  corner  of  the  door,  now  railing  within 

>3 


THE  WRECKER 

against  invisible  assistants,  a  certain  comely  young  native 
lady  in  a  sacque,  who  seemed  too  modest  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  and  too  imperious  to  be  less ;  and  then 
if  such  an  one  were  whisked  again  through  space  to 
Upper  Tooting,  or  wherever  else  he  honoured  the  do- 
mestic gods,  "I  have  had  a  dream,"  I  think  he  would 
say,  as  he  sat  up,  rubbing  his  eyes,  in  the  familiar 
chimney-corner  chair,  "  I  have  had  a  dream  of  a  place, 
and  I  declare  I  believe  it  must  be  heaven."  But  to  Dodd 
and  his  entertainer,  all  this  amenity  of  the  tropic  night 
and  all  these  dainties  of  the  island  table,  were  grown 
things  of  custom ;  and  they  fell  to  meat  like  men  who 
were  hungry,  and  drifted  into  idle  talk  like  men  who 
were  a  trifle  bored. 

The  scene  in  the  club  was  referred  to. 

"  I  never  heard  you  talk  so  much  nonsense,  Loudon," 
said  the  host. 

"Well,  it  seemed  to  me  there  was  sulphur  in  the  air, 
so  I  talked  for  talking, "  returned  the  other.  ' '  But  it  was 
none  of  it  nonsense." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  it  was  true  ?  "  cried  Havens,  — 
"that  about  the  opium  and  the  wreck,  and  the  black- 
mailing and  the  man  who  became  your  friend  ?" 

"Every  last  word  of  it,"  said  Loudon. 

"You  seem  to  have  been  seeing  life,"  returned  the 
other. 

"Yes,  it's  a  queer  yarn,"  said  his  friend;  "if  you 
think  you  would  like,  I'll  tell  it  you." 

Here  follows  the  yarn  of  Loudon  Dodd,  not  as  he  told 
it  to  his  friend,  but  as  he  subsequently  wrote  it. 


M 


THE  YARN 


CHAPTER  I 

A  SOUND  COMMERCIAL   EDUCATION 

THE  beginning  of  this  yarn  is  my  poor  father's  char- 
acter. There  never  was  a  better  man,  nor  a  hand- 
somer, nor  (in  my  view)  a  more  unhappy  —  unhappy 
in  his  business,  in  his  pleasures,  in  his  place  of  residence, 
and  (I  am  sorry  to  say  it)  in  his  son.  He  had  begun 
life  as  a  land-surveyor,  soon  became  interested  in  real 
estate,  branched  off  into  many  other  speculations,  and 
had  the  name  of  one  of  the  smartest  men  in  the  State  of 
Muskegon.  "Dodd  has  a  big  head,"  people  used  to 
say;  but  I  was  never  so  sure  of  his  capacity.  His  luck, 
at  least,  was  beyond  doubt  for  long ;  his  assiduity,  al- 
ways. He  fought  in  that  daily  battle  of  money-grub- 
bing, with  a  kind  of  sad-eyed  loyalty  like  a  martyr's ; 
rose  early,  ate  fast,  came  home  dispirited  and  over- 
weary, even  from  success ;  grudged  himself  all  pleasure, 
if  his  nature  was  capable  of  taking  any,  which  I  some- 
times wondered;  and  laid  out,  upon  some  deal  in  wheat 
or  corner  in  aluminium,  the  essence  of  which  was  little 
better  than  highway  robbery,  treasures  of  conscientious- 
ness and  self-denial 

15 


THE  WRECKER 

Unluckily,  I  never  cared  a  cent  for  anything  but  art, 
and  never  shall.  My  idea  of  man's  chief  end  was  to 
enrich  the  world  with  things  of  beauty,  and  have  a 
fairly  good  time  myself  while  doing  so.  I  do  not  think 
I  mentioned  that  second  part,  which  is  the  only  one  I 
have  managed  to  carry  out;  but  my  father  must  have 
suspected  the  suppression,  for  he  branded  the  whole 
affair  as  self-indulgence. 

11  Well,"  I  remember  crying  once,  "and  what  is  your 
life  ?  You  are  only  trying  to  get  money,  and  to  get  it 
from  other  people  at  that." 

He  sighed  bitterly  (which  was  very  much  his  habit), 
and  shook  his  poor  head  at  me.  "  Ah,  Loudon,  Lou- 
don!" said  he,  "you  boys  think  yourselves  very  smart. 
But,  struggle  as  you  please,  a  man  has  to  work  in  this 
world.    He  must  be  an  honest  man  or  a  thief,  Loudon." 

You  can  see  for  yourself  how  vain  it  was  to  argue 
with  my  father.  The  despair  that  seized  upon  me  after 
such  an  interview  was,  besides,  embittered  by  remorse ; 
for  I  was  at  times  petulant,  but  he  invariably  gentle; 
and  I  was  fighting,  after  all,  for  my  own  liberty  and 
pleasure,  he  singly  for  what  he  thought  to  be  my  good. 
And  all  the  time  he  never  despaired.  "There  is  good 
stuff  in  you,  Loudon, "  he  would  say ;  ' '  there  is  the  right 
stuff  in  you.  Blood  will  tell,  and  you  will  come  right 
in  time.  I  am  not  afraid  my  boy  will  ever  disgrace  me ; 
I  am  only  vexed  he  should  sometimes  talk  nonsense." 
And  then  he  would  pat  my  shoulder  or  my  hand  with 
a  kind  of  motherly  way  he  had,  very  affecting  in  a  man 
so  strong  and  beautiful. 

As  soon  as  I  had  graduated  from  the  high  school,  he 
packed  me  off  to  the  Muskegon  Commercial  Academy. 

16 


A  SOUND  COMMERCIAL  EDUCATION 

You  are  a  foreigner,  and  you  will  have  a  difficulty  in 
accepting  the  reality  of  this  seat  of  education.  I  assure 
you  before  I  begin  that  I  am  wholly  serious.  The  place 
really  existed,  possibly  exists  to-day:  we  were  proud 
of  it  in  the  State,  as  something  exceptionally  nineteenth 
century  and  civilised;  and  my  father,  when  he  saw 
me  to  the  cars,  no  doubt  considered  he  was  putting  me 
in  a  straight  line  for  the  Presidency  and  the  New  Jeru- 
salem. 

"  Loudon,"  said  he,  "I  am  now  giving  you  a  chance 
that  Julius  Caesar  could  not  have  given  to  his  son  —  a 
chance  to  see  life  as  it  is,  before  your  own  turn  comes 
to  start  in  earnest.  Avoid  rash  speculation,  try  to  be- 
have like  a  gentleman ;  and  if  you  will  take  my  advice, 
confine  yourself  to  a  safe,  conservative  business  in  rail- 
roads. Breadstuffs  are  tempting,  but  very  dangerous; 
I  would  not  try  breadstuffs  at  your  time  of  life;  but 
you  may  feel  your  way  a  little  in  other  commodities. 
Take  a  pride  to  keep  your  books  posted,  and  never 
throw  good  money  after  bad.  There,  my  dear  boy, 
kiss  me  good-by ;  and  never  forget  that  you  are  an  only 
chick,  and  that  your  dad  watches  your  career  with  fond 
suspense." 

The  commercial  college  was  a  fine,  roomy  establish- 
ment, pleasantly  situate  among  woods.  The  air  was 
healthy,  the  food  excellent,  the  premium  high.  Electric 
wires  connected  it  (to  use  the  words  of  the  prospectus) 
with  "the  various  world  centres."  The  reading-room 
was  well  supplied  with  "commercial  organs."  The 
talk  was  that  of  Wall  Street;  and  the  pupils  (from  fifty 
to  a  hundred  lads)  were  principally  engaged  in  rooking 
or  trying  to  rook  one  another  for  nominal  sums  in 

17 


THE  WRECKER 

what  was  called  "college  paper."  We  had  class  hours, 
indeed,  in  the  morning,  when  we  studied  German, 
French,  book-keeping,  and  the  like  goodly  matters; 
but  the  bulk  of  our  day  and  the  gist  of  the  education 
centred  in  the  exchange,  where  we  were  taught  to 
gamble  in  produce  and  securities.  Since  not  one  of  the 
participants  possessed  a  bushel  of  wheat  or  a  dollar's 
worth  of  stock,  legitimate  business  was  of  course  im- 
possible from  the  beginning.  It  was  cold-drawn  gam- 
bling, without  colour  or  disguise.  Just  that  which  is 
the  impediment  and  destruction  of  all  genuine  commer- 
cial enterprise,  just  that  we  were  taught  with  every 
luxury  of  stage  effect.  Our  simulacrum  of  a  market 
was  ruled  by  the  real  markets  outside,  so  that  we 
might  experience  the  course  and  vicissitude  of  prices. 
We  must  keep  books,  and  our  ledgers  were  overhauled 
at  the  month's  end  by  the  principal  or  his  assistants. 
To  add  a  spice  of  verisimilitude,  "college  paper"  (like 
poker  chips)  had  an  actual  marketable  value.  It  was 
bought  for  each  pupil  by  anxious  parents  and  guardians 
at  the  rate  of  one  cent  for  the  dollar.  The  same  pupil, 
when  his  education  was  complete,  resold,  at  the  same 
figure,  so  much  as  was  left  him  to  the  college;  and  even 
in  the  midst  of  his  curriculum,  a  successful  operator 
would  sometimes  realise  a  proportion  of  his  holding, 
and  stand  a  supper  op  the  sly  in  the  neighbouring  ham- 
let. In  short,  if  there  was  ever  a  worse  education,  it 
must  have  been  in  that  academy  where  Oliver  met 
Charlie  Bates. 

When  I  was  first  guided  into  the  exchange  to  have 
my  desk  pointed  out  by  one  of  the  assistant  teachers,  I 
was  overwhelmed  by  the  clamour  and  confusion.   Cer- 


A  SOUND   COMMERCIAL  EDUCATION 

tain  blackboards  at  the  other  end  of  the  building  were 
covered  with  figures  continually  replaced.  As  each  new 
set  appeared,  the  pupils  swayed  to  and  fro,  and  roared 
out  aloud  with  a  formidable  and  to  me  quite  meaning- 
less vociferation;  leaping  at  the  same  time  upon  the 
desks  and  benches,  signalling  with  arms  and  heads,  and 
scribbling  briskly  in  note-books.  I  thought  I  had  never 
beheld  a  scene  more  disagreeable;  and  when  I  consid- 
ered that  the  whole  traffic  was  illusory,  and  all  the 
money  then  upon  the  market  would  scarce  have  sufficed 
to  buy  a  pair  of  skates,  I  was  at  first  astonished,  although 
not  for  long.  Indeed,  I  had  no  sooner  called  to  mind 
how  grown-up  men  and  women  of  considerable  estate 
will  lose  their  temper  about  half-penny  points,  than  (mak- 
ing an  immediate  allowance  for  my  fellow-students) 
I  transferred  the  whole  of  my  astonishment  to  the 
assistant  teacher,  who  —  poor  gentleman  —  had  quite 
forgot  to  show  me  to  my  desk,  and  stood  in  the 
midst  of  this  hurly-burly,  absorbed  and  seemingly 
transported. 

"  Look,  look,"  he  shouted  in  my  ear;  "a  falling  mar- 
ket! The  bears  have  had  it  all  their  own  way  since 
yesterday." 

"  It  can't  matter,"  I  replied,  making  him  hear  with 
difficulty,  for  I  was  unused  to  speak  in  such  a  babel, 
"  since  it  is  all  fun." 

' '  True, "  said  he ;  ' '  and  you  must  always  bear  in  mind 
that  the  real  profit  is  in  the  book-keeping.  I  trust, 
Dodd,  to  be  able  to  congratulate  you  upon  your  books. 
You  are  to  start  in  with  ten  thousand  dollars  of  college 
paper,  a  very  liberal  figure,  which  should  see  you  through 
the  whole  curriculum,  if  you  keep  to  a  safe,  conservative 

19 


THE   WRECKER 

business.  .  .  .  Why,  what's  that?"  he  broke  off,  once 
more  attracted  by  the  changing  figures  on  the  board. 
"Seven,  four,  three!  Dodd,  you  are  in  luck:  this  is 
the  most  spirited  rally  we  have  had  this  term.  And  to 
think  that  the  same  scene  is  now  transpiring  in  New 
York,  Chicago,  St.  Louis,  and  rival  business  centres! 
For  two  cents,  I  would  try  a  flutter  with  the  boys  my- 
self," he  cried,  rubbing  his  hands;  "only  it's  against 
the  regulations." 

"  What  would  you  do,  sir  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Do  ?  "  he  cried  with  glittering  eyes.  "  Buy  for  all 
I  was  worth ! " 

"Would  that  be  a  safe,  conservative  business?"  I 
inquired,  as  innocent  as  a  lamb. 

He  looked  daggers  at  me.  "See  that  sandy-haired 
man  in  glasses  ?  "  he  asked,  as  if  to  change  the  subject. 
"That's  Billson,  our  most  prominent  undergraduate. 
We  build  confidently  on  Billson's  future.  You  could 
not  do  better,  Dodd,  than  follow  Billson." 

Presently  after,  in  the  midst  of  a  still  growing  tu- 
mult, the  figures  coming  and  going  more  busily  than 
ever  on  the  board,  and  the  hall  resounding  like  Pan- 
demonium with  the  howls  of  operators,  the  assistant 
teacher  left  me  to  my  own  resources  at  my  desk.  The 
next  boy  was  posting  up  his  ledger,  figuring  his  morn- 
ing's loss,  as  I  discovered  later  on ;  and  from  this  un- 
genial  task  he  was  readily  diverted  by  the  sight  of  a 
new  face. 

"Say,  Freshman,"  he  said,  "what's  your  name? 
What  ?  Son  of  Big  Head  Dodd  ?  What's  your  figure  ? 
Ten  thousand?  O,  you're  away  up!  What  a  soft- 
headed clam  you  must  be  to  touch  your  books!  " 

20 


A  SOUND   COMMERCIAL   EDUCATION 

I  asked  him  what  else  I  could  do,  since  the  books 
were  to  be  examined  once  a  month. 

"Why,  you  galoot,  you  get  a  clerk!"  cries  he. 
1 '  One  of  our  dead  beats  —  that's  all  they're  here  for.  If 
you're  a  successful  operator,  you  need  never  do  a  stroke 
of  work  in  this  old  college." 

The  noise  had  now  become  deafening;  and  my  new 
friend,  telling  me  that  some  one  had  certainly  "gone 
down, "  that  he  must  know  the  news,  and  that  he  would 
bring  me  a  clerk  when  he  returned,  buttoned  his  coat 
and  plunged  into  the  tossing  throng.  It  proved  that  he 
was  right:  some  one  had  gone  down;  a  prince  had 
fallen  in  Israel;  the  corner  in  lard  had  proved  fatal  to 
the  mighty ;  and  the  clerk  who  was  brought  back  to 
keep  my  books,  spare  me  all  work,  and  get  all  my 
share  of  the  education,  at  a  thousand  dollars  a  month, 
college  paper  (ten  dollars,  United  States  currency)  was 
no  other  than  the  prominent  Billson  whom  I  could  do 
no  better  than  follow.  The  poor  lad  was  very  unhappy. 
It's  the  only  good  thing  I  have  to  say  for  Muskegon 
Commercial  College,  that  we  were  all,  even  the  small 
fry,  deeply  mortified  to  be  posted  as  defaulters ;  and  the 
collapse  of  a  merchant  prince  like  Billson,  who  had  rid- 
den pretty  high  in  his  days  of  prosperity,  was,  of  course, 
particularly  hard  to  bear.  But  the  spirit  of  make-believe 
conquered  even  the  bitterness  of  recent  shame ;  and  my 
clerk  took  his  orders,  and  fell  to  his  new  duties,  with 
decorum  and  civility. 

Such  were  my  first  impressions  in  this  absurd  place 
of  education ;  and  to  be  frank,  they  were  far  from  dis- 
agreeable. As  long  as  I  was  rich,  my  evenings  and 
afternoons  would  be  my  own ;  the  clerk  must  keep  my 

21 


THE  WRECKER 

books,  the  clerk  could  do  the  jostling  and  bawling  in 
the  exchange;  and  I  could  turn  my  mind  to  landscape- 
painting  and  Balzac's  novels,  which  were  then  my  two 
preoccupations.  To  remain  rich,  then,  became  my 
problem ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  do  a  safe,  conservative 
line  of  business.  I  am  looking  for  that  line  still ;  and  I 
believe  the  nearest  thing  to  it  in  this  imperfect  world  is 
the  sort  of  speculation  sometimes  insidiously  proposed 
to  childhood,  in  the  formula,  "Heads,  I  win;  tails,  you 
lose."  Mindful  of  my  father's  parting  words,  I  turned 
my  attention  timidly  to  railroads ;  and  for  a  month  or  so 
maintained  a  position  of  inglorious  security,  dealing  for 
small  amounts  in  the  most  inert  stocks,  and  bearing  (as 
best  I  could)  the  scorn  of  my  hired  clerk.  One  day  I 
had  ventured  a  little  further  by  way  of  experiment;  and, 
in  the  sure  expectation  they  would  continue  to  go  down, 
sold  several  thousand  dollars  of  Pan-Handle  Preference 
(I  think  it  was).  I  had  no  sooner  made  this  venture, 
than  some  fools  in  New  York  began  to  bull  the  market; 
Pan-Handles  rose  like  a  balloon;  and  in  the  inside  of 
half  an  hour  I  saw  my  position  compromised.  Blood 
will  tell,  as  my  father  said ;  and  I  stuck  to  it  gallantly : 
all  afternoon  I  continued  selling  that  infernal  stock,  all 
afternoon  it  continued  skying.  I  suppose  I  had  come 
(a  frail  cockle-shell)  athwart  the  hawse  of  Jay  Gould ; 
and,  indeed,  I  think  I  remember  that  this  vagary  in  the 
market  proved  subsequently  to  be  the  first  move  in  a 
considerable  deal.  That  evening,  at  least,  the  name  of 
H.  Loudon  Dodd  held  the  first  rank  in  our  collegiate 
gazette,  and  I  and  Billson  (once  more  thrown  upon  the 
world)  were  competing  for  the  same  clerkship.  The 
present  object  takes  the  present  eye.     My  disaster,  for 

22 


A  SOUND   COMMERCIAL   EDUCATION 

the  moment,  was  the  more  conspicuous;  and  it  was  I 
that  got  the  situation.  So  you  see,  even  in  Muskegon 
Commercial  College,  there  were  lessons  to  be  learned. 

For  my  own  part,  I  cared  very  little  whether  I  lost  or 
won  at  a  game  so  random,  so  complex,  and  so  dull; 
but  it  was  sorry  news  to  write  to  my  poor  father,  and 
I  employed  all  the  resources  of  my  eloquence.  I  told 
him  (what  was  the  truth)  that  the  successful  boys  had 
none  of  the  education;  so  that  if  he  wished  me  to 
learn,  he  should  rejoice  at  my  misfortune.  I  went  on 
(not  very  consistently)  to  beg  him  to  set  me  up  again, 
when  I  would  solemnly  promise  to  do  a  safe  business 
in  reliable  railroads.  Lastly  (becoming  somewhat  carried 
away)  I  assured  him  I  was  totally  unfit  for  business, 
and  implored  him  to  take  me  away  from  this  abomi- 
nable place,  and  let  me  go  to  Paris  to  study  art.  He  an- 
swered briefly,  gently,  and  sadly,  telling  me  the  vacation 
was  near  at  hand,  when  we  would  talk  things  over. 

When  the  time  came,  he  met  me  at  the  depot,  and  I 
was  shocked  to  see  him  looking  older.  He  seemed  to 
have  no  thought  but  to  console  me  and  restore  (what 
he  supposed  I  had  lost)  my  courage.  I  must  not  be 
down-hearted;  manv  of  the  best  men  had  made  a  fail- 
ure in  the  beginning.  I  told  him  I  had  no  head  for 
business,  and  his  kind  face  darkened.  "  You  must  not 
say  that,  Loudon,"  he  replied;  "  I  will  never  believe  my 
son  to  be  a  coward." 

"  But  I  don't  like  it,"  I  pleaded.  "  It  hasn't  got  any 
interest  for  me,  and  art  has.  I  know  I  could  do  more 
in  art,"  and  I  reminded  him  that  a  successful  painter 
gains  large  sums;  that  a  picture  of  Meissonier's  would 
sell  for  many  thousand  dollars. 

23 


THE  WRECKER 

"And  do  you  think,  Loudon,"  he  replied,  '  that  a 
man  who  can  paint  a  thousand  dollar  picture  has  not 
grit  enough  to  keep  his  end  up  in  the  stock  market  ?  No, 
sir;  this  Mason  (of  whom  you  speak)  or  our  own 
American  Bierstadt  —  if  you  were  to  put  them  down  in 
a  wheat  pit  to-morrow,  they  would  show  their  mettle. 
Come,  Loudon,  my  dear;  Heaven  knows  I  have  no 
thought  but  your  own  good,  and  I  will  offer  you  a  bar- 
gain. I  start  you  again  next  term  with  ten  thousand 
dollars ;  show  yourself  a  man,  and  double  it,  and  then 
(if  you  still  wish  to  go  to  Paris,  which  I  know  you 
won't)  I'll  let  you  go.  But  to  let  you  run  away  as  if 
you  were  whipped,  is  what  I  am  too  proud  to  do." 

My  heart  leaped  at  this  proposal,  and  then  sank  again. 
It  seemed  easier  to  paint  a  Meissonier  on  the  spot  than 
to  win  ten  thousand  dollars  on  that  mimic  stock  ex- 
change. Nor  could  I  help  reflecting  on  the  singularity 
of  such  a  test  for  a  man's  capacity  to  be  a  painter.  I 
ventured  even  to  comment  on  this. 

He  sighed  deeply.  "You  forget,  my  dear,"  said  he, 
"I  am  a  judge  of  the  one,  and  not  of  the  other.  You 
might  have  the  genius  of  Bierstadt  himself,  and  I  would 
be  none  the  wiser." 

"And  then,"  I  continued,  "it's  scarcely  fair.  The 
other  boys  are  helped  by  their  people,  who  telegraph 
and  give  them  pointers.  There's  Jim  Costello,  who 
never  budges  without  a  word  from  his  father  in  New 
York.  And  then,  don't  you  see,  if  anybody  is  to  win, 
somebody  must  lose  ?  " 

"  I'll  keep  you  posted,"  cried  my  father,  with  unusual 
animation;  "I  did  not  know  it  was  allowed.  I'll  wire 
you  in  the  office  cipher,  and  we'll  make  it  a  kind  of 

24 


A  SOUND  COMMERCIAL  EDUCATION 

partnership  business,  Loudon :  — Dodd  &  Son,  eh  ?  "  and 
he  patted  my  shoulder  and  repeated,  "Dodd  &  Son, 
Dodd  &  Son,"  with  the  kindliest  amusement. 

If  my  father  was  to  give  me  pointers,  and  the  com- 
mercial college  was  to  be  a  stepping-stone  to  Paris,  I 
could  look  my  future  in  the  face.  The  old  boy,  too, 
was  so  pleased  at  the  idea  of  our  association  in  this 
foolery  that  he  immediately  plucked  up  spirit.  Thus  it 
befell  that  those  who  had  met  at  the  depot  like  a  pair 
of  mutes,  sat  down  to  table  with  holiday  faces. 

And  now  I  have  to  introduce  a  new  character  that 
never  said  a  word  nor  wagged  a  finger,  and  yet  shaped 
my  whole  subsequent  career.  You  have  crossed  the 
States,  so  that  in  all  likelihood  you  have  seen  the  head 
of  it,  parcel-gilt  and  curiously  fluted,  rising  among  trees 
from  a  wide  plain ;  for  this  new  character  was  no  other 
than  the  State  capitol  of  Muskegon,  then  first  projected. 
My  father  had  embraced  the  idea  with  a  mixture  of  pa- 
triotism and  commercial  greed  both  perfectly  genuine. 
He  was  of  all  the  committees,  he  had  subscribed  a  great 
deal  of  money,  and  he  was  making  arrangements  to  have 
a  finger  in  most  of  the  contracts.  Competitive  plans  had 
been  sent  in ;  at  the  time  of  my  return  from  college  my 
father  was  deep  in  their  consideration ;  and  as  the  idea 
entirely  occupied  his  mind,  the  first  evening  did  not  pass 
away  before  he  had  called  me  into  council.  Here  was 
a  subject  at  last  into  which  I  could  throw  myself  with 
pleasurable  zeal.  Architecture  was  new  to  me,  indeed ; 
but  it  was  at  least  an  art ;  and  for  all  the  arts  I  had  a 
taste  naturally  classical  and  that  capacity  to  take  de- 
lighted pains  which  some  famous  idiot  has  supposed  to 
be  synonymous  with  genius.     I  threw  myself  headlong 

25 


THE  WRECKER 

into  my  father's  work,  acquainted  myself  with  all  the 
plans,  their  merits  and  defects,  read  besides  in  special 
books,  made  myself  a  master  of  the  theory  of  strains, 
studied  the  current  prices  of  materials,  and  (in  one  word) 
"devilled"  the  whole  business  so  thoroughly,  that  when 
the  plans  came  up  for  consideration,  Big  Head  Dodd  was 
supposed  to  have  earned  fresh  laurels.  His  arguments 
carried  the  day,  his  choice  was  approved  by  the  com- 
mittee, and  I  had  the  anonymous  satisfaction  to  know 
that  arguments  and  choice  were  wholly  mine.  In  the 
recasting  of  the  plan  which  followed,  my  part  was  even 
larger;  for  I  designed  and  cast  with  my  own  hand  a  hot- 
air  grating  for  the  offices,  which  had  the  luck  or  merit 
to  be  accepted.  The  energy  and  aptitude  which  I  dis- 
played throughout  delighted  and  surprised  my  father, 
and  I  believe,  although  I  say  it  whose  tongue  should  be 
tied,  that  they  alone  prevented  Muskegon  capitol  from 
being  the  eyesore  of  my  native  State. 

Altogether,  I  was  in  a  cheery  frame  of  mind  when  I 
returned  to  the  commercial  college;  and  my  earlier  op- 
erations were  crowned  with  a  full  measure  of  success. 
My  father  wrote  and  wired  to  me  continually.  "You 
are  to  exercise  your  own  judgment,  Loudon,"  he  would 
say.  "All  that  I  do  is  to  give  you  the  figures;  but 
whatever  operation  you  take  up  must  be  upon  your 
own  responsibility,  and  whatever  you  earn  will  be  en- 
tirely due  to  your  own  dash  and  forethought."  For  all 
that,  it  was  always  clear  what  he  intended  me  to  do, 
and  I  was  always  careful  to  do  it.  Inside  of  a  month 
I  was  at  the  head  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  thousand 
dollars,  college  paper.  And  here  I  fell  a  victim  to  one 
of  the  vices  of  the  system.     The  paper  (I  have  already 

26 


A  SOUND   COMMERCIAL  EDUCATION 

explained)  had  a  real  value  of  one  per  cent;  and  cost, 
and  could  be  sold,  for  currency.  Unsuccessful  specu- 
lators were  thus  always  selling  clothes,  books,  banjos, 
and  sleeve-links,  in  order  to  pay  their  differences;  the 
successful,  on  the  other  hand,  were  often  tempted  to  re- 
alise, and  enjoy  some  return  upon  their  profits.  Now 
I  wanted  thirty  dollars'  worth  of  artist-truck,  for  I  was 
always  sketching  in  the  woods ;  my  allowance  was  for 
the  time  exhausted ;  I  had  begun  to  regard  the  exchange 
(with  my  father's  help)  as  a  place  where  money  was  to 
be  got  for  stooping;  and  in  an  evil  hour  I  realised  three 
thousand  dollars  of  the  college  paper  and  bought  my 
easel. 

It  was  a  Wednesday  morning  when  the  things  arrived, 
and  set  me  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  satisfaction.  My 
father  (for  I  can  scarcely  say  myself)  was  trying  at  this 
time  a  " straddle"  in  wheat  between  Chicago  and  New 
York;  the  operation  so  called  is,  as  you  know,  one  of 
the  most  tempting  and  least  safe  upon  the  chess-board 
of  finance.  On  the  Thursday,  luck  began  to  turn  against 
my  father's  calculations ;  and  by  the  Friday  evening,  I 
was  posted  on  the  boards  as  a  defaulter  for  the  second 
time.  Here  was  a  rude  blow:  my  father  would  have 
taken  it  ill  enough  in  any  case ;  for  however  much  a  man 
may  resent  the  incapacity  of  an  only  son,  he  will  feel 
his  own  more  sensibly.  But  it  chanced  that,  in  our 
bitter  cup  of  failure,  there  was  one  ingredient  that 
might  truly  be  called  poisonous.  He  had  been  keeping 
the  run  of  my  position ;  he  missed  the  three  thousand 
dollars,  paper;  and  in  his  view,  I  had  stolen  thirty 
dollars,  currency.  It  was  an  extreme  view  perhaps ;  but 
in  some  senses,  it  was  just;  and  my  father,  although  (to 

27 


THE  WRECKER 

my  judgment)  quite  reckless  of  honesty  in  the  essence 
of  his  operations,  was  the  soul  of  honour  as  to  their 
details.  I  had  one  grieved  letter  from  him,  dignified 
and  tender;  and  during  the  rest  of  that  wretched  term, 
working  as  a  clerk,  selling  my  clothes  and  sketches  to 
make  futile  speculations,  my  dream  of  Paris  quite  van- 
ished, I  was  cheered  by  no  word  of  kindness  and  helped 
by  no  hint  of  counsel  from  my  father. 

All  the  time  he  was  no  doubt  thinking  of  little  else 
but  his  son,  and  what  to  do  with  him.  I  believe  he 
had  been  really  appalled  by  what  he  regarded  as  my 
laxity  of  principle,  and  began  to  think  it  might  be  well 
to  preserve  me  from  temptation ;  the  architect  of  the 
capitol  had,  besides,  spoken  obligingly  of  my  design ; 
and  while  he  was  thus  hanging  between  two  minds, 
Fortune  suddenly  stepped  in,  and  Muskegon  State  cap- 
itol reversed  my  destiny. 

"  Loudon,"  said  my  father,  as  he  met  me  at  the  depot, 
with  a  smiling  countenance,  "  if  you  were  to  go  to  Paris, 
how  long  would  it  take  you  to  become  an  experienced 
sculptor?" 

"How  do  you  mean,  father?"  I  cried.  "Experi- 
enced ?  " 

"A  man  that  could  be  entrusted  with  the  highest 
styles, "  he  answered :  ' '  the  nude,  for  instance ;  and  the 
patriotic  and  emblematical  styles." 

"  It  might  take  three  years,"  I  replied. 

"You  think  Paris  necessary?"  he  asked.  "There 
are  great  advantages  in  our  own  country;  and  that  man 
Prodgers  appears  to  be  a  very  clever  sculptor,  though 
I  suppose  he  stands  too  high  to  go  around  giving  les- 
sons." 

28 


A  SOUND   COMMERCIAL   EDUCATION 

"Paris  is  the  only  place,"  I  assured  him. 

"  Well,  I  think  myself  it  will  sound  better,"  he  ad- 
mitted. "  A  Young  Man,  a  Native  of  this  State,  Son  of 
a  Leading  Citizen,  Studies  Prosecuted  under  the  Most 
Experienced  Masters  in  Paris,"  he  added,  relishingly. 

"But,  my  dear  dad,  what  is  it  all  about?"  I  inter- 
rupted.    "■  I  never  even  dreamed  of  being  a  sculptor." 

*'  Well,  here  it  is,"  said  he.  "I  took  up  the  statuary 
contract  on  our  new  capitol;  I  took  it  up  at  first  as  a 
deal ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  me  it  would  be  better  to 
keep  it  in  the  family.  It  meets  your  idea;  there's  con- 
siderable money  in  the  thing;  and  it's  patriotic.  So,  if 
you  say  the  word,  you  shall  go  to  Paris,  and  come  back 
in  three  years  to  decorate  the  capitol  of  your  native 
State.  It's  a  big  chance  for  you,  Loudon;  and  I'll  tell 
you  what  —  every  dollar  you  earn,  I'll  put  another  along- 
side of  it.  But  the  sooner  you  go,  and  the  harder  you 
work,  the  better;  for  if  the  first  half-dozen  statues 
aren't  on  a  line  with  public  taste  in  Muskegon,  there 
will  be  trouble." 


CHAPTER  II 

ROUSSILLON   WINE 

My  mother's  family  was  Scotch,  and  it  was  judged 
fitting  I  should  pay  a  visit  on  my  way  Paris-ward,  to 
my  Uncle  Adam  Loudon,  a  wealthy  retired  grocer  of 
Edinburgh.  He  was  very  stiff  and  very  ironical ;  he  fed 
me  well,  lodged  me  sumptuously,  and  seemed  to  take 
it  out  of  me  all  the  time,  cent  per  cent,  in  secret  enter- 
tainment which  caused  his  spectacles  to  glitter  and  his 
mouth  to  twitch.  The  ground  of  this  ill-suppressed 
mirth  (as  well  as  I  could  make  out)  was  simply  the  fact 
that  I  was  an  American.  "Well,"  he  would  say,  draw- 
ing out  the  word  to  infinity,  "and  I  suppose  now  in 
your  country,  things  will  be  so  and  so."  And  the  whole 
group  of  my  cousins  would  titter  joyously.  Repeated 
receptions  of  this  sort  must  be  at  the  root,  I  suppose, 
of  what  they  call  the  Great  American  Jest;  and  I  know 
I  was  myself  goaded  into  saying  that  my  friends  went 
naked  in  the  summer  months,  and  that  the  Second 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  in  Muskegon  was  decorated 
with  scalps.  I  cannot  say  that  these  flights  had  any 
great  success ;  they  seemed  to  awaken  little  more  sur- 
prise than  the  fact  that  my  father  was  a  Republican  or 
that  I  had  been  taught  in  school  to  spell  colour  without 
the  u.     If  I  had  told  them  (what  was  after  all  the  truth) 

JO 


ROUSSILLON   WINE 

that  my  father  had  paid  a  considerable  annual  sum  to 
have  me  brought  up  in  a  gambling  hell,  the  tittering 
and  grinning  of  this  dreadful  family  might  perhaps  have 
been  excused. 

I  cannot  deny  but  I  was  sometimes  tempted  to  knock 
my  Uncle  Adam  down;  and  indeed  I  believe  it  must 
have  come  to  a  rupture  at  last,  if  they  had  not  given 
a  dinner  party  at  which  I  was  the  lion.  On  this  occa- 
sion, I  learned  (to  my  surprise  and  relief)  that  the  inci- 
vility to  which  I  had  been  subjected  was  a  matter  for 
the  family  circle  and  might  be  regarded  almost  in  the 
light  of  an  endearment.  To  strangers,  I  was  presented 
with  consideration;  and  the  account  given  of  "my 
American  brother-in-law,  poor  Janie's  man,  James  K. 
Dodd,  the  well-known  millionaire  of  Muskegon,"  was 
calculated  to  enlarge  the  heart  of  a  proud  son. 

An  aged  assistant  of  my  grandfather's,  a  pleasant, 
humble  creature  with  a  taste  for  whisky,  was  at  first 
deputed  to  be  my  guide  about  the  city.  With  this 
harmless  but  hardly  aristocratic  companion,  I  went  to 
Arthur's  Seat  and  the  Calton  Hill,  heard  the  band  play 
in  the  Princes  Street  Gardens,  inspected  the  regalia  and 
the  blood  of  Rizzio,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  great  castle 
on  its  cliff,  the  innumerable  spires  of  churches,  the 
stately  buildings,  the  broad  prospects,  and  those  narrow 
and  crowded  lanes  of  the  old  town  where  my  ancestors 
had  lived  and  died  in  the  days  before  Columbus. 

But  there  was  another  curiosity  that  interested  me 
more  deeply  —  my  grandfather,  Alexander  Loudon.  In 
his  time,  the  old  gentleman  had  been  a  working  mason, 
and  had  risen  from  the  ranks  more,  I  think,  by  shrewd- 
ness than  by  merit.     In  his  appearance,  speech,  and 

31 


THE  WRECKER 

manners,  he  bore  broad  marks  of  his  origin,  which  were 
gall  and  wormwood  to  my  Uncle  Adam.  His  nails,  in 
spite  of  anxious  supervision,  were  often  in  conspicuous 
mourning;  his  clothes  hung  about  him  in  bags  and 
wrinkles  like  a  ploughman's  Sunday  coat;  his  accent 
was  rude,  broad,  and  dragging:  take  him  at  his  best, 
and  even  when  he  could  be  induced  to  hold  his  tongue, 
his  mere  presence  in  a  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  with 
his  open-air  wrinkles,  his  scanty  hair,  his  battered  hands, 
and  the  cheerful  craftiness  of  his  expression,  advertised 
the  whole  gang  of  us  for  a  self-made  family.  My  aunt 
might  mince  and  my  cousins  bridle;  but  there  was  no 
getting  over  the  solid,  physical  fact  of  the  stonemason 
in  the  chimney-corner. 

That  is  one  advantage  of  being  an  American :  it  never 
occurred  to  me  to  be  ashamed  of  my  grandfather,  and 
the  old  gentleman  was  quick  to  mark  the  difference. 
He  held  my  mother  in  tender  memory,  perhaps  because 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  daily  contrasting  her  with  Uncle 
Adam,  whom  he  detested  to  the  point  of  frenzy ;  and 
he  set  down  to  inheritance  from  his  favourite  my  own 
becoming  treatment  of  himself.  On  our  walks  abroad, 
which  soon  became  daily,  he  would  sometimes  (after 
duly  warning  me  to  keep  the  matter  dark  from  ' '  Aadam  ") 
skulk  into  some  old  familiar  pot-house;  and  there  (if  he 
had  the  luck  to  encounter  any  of  his  veteran  cronies)  he 
would  present  me  to  the  company  with  manifest  pride, 
casting  at  the  same  time  a  covert  slur  on  the  rest  of  his 
descendants.  "This  is  my  Jeannie's  yin,"  he  would 
say.  "He's  a  fine  fallow,  him."  The  purpose  of  our 
excursions  was  not  to  seek  antiquities  or  to  enjoy  fa- 
mous prospects,  but  to  visit  one  after  another  a  series 

J* 


ROUSSILLON   WINE 

of  doleful  suburbs,  for  which  it  was  the  old  gentleman's 
chief  claim  to  renown  that  he  had  been  the  sole  con- 
tractor, and  too  often  the  architect  besides.  I  have 
rarely  seen  a  more  shocking  exhibition:  the  bricks 
seemed  to  be  blushing  in  the  walls,  and  the  slates  on 
the  roof  to  have  turned  pale  with  shame;  but  I  was 
careful  not  to  communicate  these  impressions  to  the 
aged  artificer  at  my  side;  and  when  he  would  direct 
my  attention  to  some  fresh  monstrosity  —  perhaps  with 
the  comment,  "There's  an  idee  of  mine's:  it's  cheap 
and  tasty,  and  had  a  graand  run;  the  idee  was  soon 
stole,  and  there's  whole  deestricts  near  Glesgie  with  the 
goathic  adeetion  and  that  plunth,"  —  I  would  civilly 
make  haste  to  admire  and  (what  I  found  particularly  de- 
lighted him)  to  inquire  into  the  cost  of  each  adornment. 
It  will  be  conceived  that  Muskegon  capitol  was  a  fre- 
quent and  a  welcome  ground  of  talk;  I  drew  him  all  the 
plans  from  memory ;  and  he,  with  the  aid  of  a  narrow 
volume  full  of  figures  and  tables,  which  answered  (I  be- 
lieve) to  the  name  of  Molesworth,  and  was  his  constant 
pocket  companion,  would  draw  up  rough  estimates  and 
make  imaginary  offers  on  the  various  contracts.  Our 
Muskegon  builders  he  pronounced  a  pack  of  cormorants; 
and  the  congenial  subject,  together  with  my  knowledge 
of  architectural  terms,  the  theory  of  strains,  and  the 
prices  of  materials  in  the  States,  formed  a  strong  bond  of 
union  between  what  might  have  been  otherwise  an  ill- 
assorted  pair,  and  led  my  grandfather  to  pronounce  me, 
with  emphasis,  "a  real  intalligent  kind  of  a  cheild." 
Thus  a  second  time,  as  you  will  presently  see,  the  capi- 
tol of  my  native  State  had  influentially  affected  the  cur- 
rent of  my  life. 

35 


THE   WRECKER 

I  left  Edinburgh,  however,  with  not  the  least  idea  that 
I  had  done  a  stroke  of  excellent  business  for  myself,  and 
singly  delighted  to  escape  out  of  a  somewhat  dreary 
house  and  plunge  instead  into  the  rainbow  city  of  Paris. 
Every  man  has  his  own  romance;  mine  clustered  exclu- 
sively about  the  practice  of  the  arts,  the  life  of  Latin 
Quarter  students,  and  the  world  of  Paris  as  depicted  by 
that  grimy  wizard,  the  author  of  the  Comedie  Humaine. 
I  was  not  disappointed  —  I  could  not  have  been;  for  I 
did  not  see  the  facts,  I  brought  them  with  me  ready- 
made.  Z.  Marcas  lived  next  door  to  me  in  my  ungainly, 
ill-smelling  hotel  of  the  Rue  Racine;  I  dined  at  my  vil- 
lainous restaurant  with  Lousteau  and  with  Rastignac ; 
if  a  curricle  nearly  ran  me  down  at  a  street-crossing, 
Maxime  de  Trailles  would  be  the  driver.  I  dined,  I  say, 
at  a  poor  restaurant  and  lived  in  a  poor  hotel ;  and  this 
was  not  from  need,  but  sentiment.  My  father  gave  me 
a  profuse  allowance,  and  I  might  have  lived  (had  I 
chosen)  in  the  Quartier  de  1'Etoile  and  driven  to  my 
studies  daily.  Had  I  done  so,  the  glamour  must  have 
fled :  I  should  still  have  been  but  Loudon  Dodd ;  where- 
as now  I  was  a  Latin  Quarter  student,  Murger's  suc- 
cessor, living  in  flesh  and  blood  the  life  of  one  of  those 
romances  I  had  loved  to  read,  to  re-read,  and  to  dream 
over,  among  the  woods  of  Muskegon. 

At  this  time  we  were  all  a  little  Murger-mad  in  the 
Latin  Quarter.  The  play  of  the  Vie  de  TSoheme  (a  dreary, 
snivelling  piece)  had  been  produced  at  the  Odeon,  had 
run  an  unconscionable  time  —  for  Paris,  and  revived  the 
freshness  of  the  legend.  The  same  business,  you  may 
say,  or  there  and  thereabout,  was  being  privately  enacted 
in  consequence  in  every  garret  of  the  neighbourhood, 

34 


ROUSSILLON   WINE 

and  a  good  third  of  the  students  were  consciously  im- 
personating Rodolphe  or  Schaunard  to  their  own  incom- 
municable satisfaction.  Some  of  us  went  far,  and  some 
farther.  I  always  looked  with  awful  envy  (for  instance) 
on  a  certain  countryman  of  my  own,  who  had  a  studio 
in  the  Rue  Monsieur  le  Prince,  wore  boots,  and  long 
hair  in  a  net,  and  could  be  seen  tramping  off,  in  this 
guise,  to  the  worst  eating-house  of  the  quarter,  followed 
by  a  Corsican  model,  his  mistress,  in  the  conspicuous 
costume  of  her  race  and  calling.  It  takes  some  great- 
ness of  soul  to  carry  even  folly  to  such  heights  as  these ; 
and  for  my  own  part,  I  had  to  content  myself  by  pre- 
tending very  arduously  to  be  poor,  by  wearing  a  smok- 
ing-cap  on  the  streets,  and  by  pursuing,  through  a  series 
of  misadventures,  that  extinct  mammal,  the  grisette. 
The  most  grievous  part  was  the  eating  and  the  drinking. 
I  was  born  with  a  dainty  tooth  and  a  palate  for  wine; 
and  only  a  genuine  devotion  to  romance  could  have  sup- 
ported me  under  the  cat-civets  that  I  had  to  swallow, 
and  the  red  ink  of  Bercy  I  must  wash  them  down  withal. 
Every  now  and  again,  after  a  hard  day  at  the  studio, 
where  I  was  steadily  and  far  from  unsuccessfully  indus- 
trious, a  wave  of  distaste  would  overbear  me;  I  would 
slink  away  from  my  haunts  and  companions,  indemnify 
myself  for  weeks  of  self-denial  with  fine  wines  and 
dainty  dishes ;  seated  perhaps  on  a  terrace,  perhaps  in  an 
arbour  in  a  garden,  with  a  volume  of  one  of  my  favourite 
authors  propped  open  in  front  of  me,  and  now  consulted 
awhile,  and  now  forgotten : — so  remain,  relishing  my 
situation,  till  night  fell  and  the  lights  of  the  city  kindled; 
and  thence  stroll  homeward  by  the  riverside,  under  the 
moon  or  stars,  in  a  heaven  of  poetry  and  digestion. 

35 


THE  WRECKER 

One  such  indulgence  led  me  in  the  course  of  my  second 
year  into  an  adventure  which  I  must  relate:  indeed,  it  is 
the  very  point  I  have  been  aiming  for,  since  that  was  what 
brought  me  in  acquaintance  with  Jim  Pinkerton.  I  sat 
down  alone  to  dinner  one  October  day  when  the  rusty 
leaves  were  falling  and  scuttling  on  the  boulevard,  and 
the  minds  of  impressionable  men  inclined  in  about  an 
equal  degree  towards  sadness  and  conviviality.  The 
restaurant  was  no  great  place,  but  boasted  a  considerable 
cellar  and  a  long  printed  list  of  vintages.  This  I  was 
perusing  with  the  double  zest  of  a  man  who  is  fond  of 
wine  and  a  lover  of  beautiful  names,  when  my  eye  fell 
(near  the  end  of  the  card)  on  that  not  very  famous  or 
familiar  brand,  Roussillon.  I  remember  it  was  a  wine 
I  had  never  tasted,  ordered  a  bottle,  found  it  excellent, 
and  when  I  had  discussed  the  contents,  called  (accord- 
ing to  my  habit)  for  a  final  pint.  It  appears  they  did 
not  keep  Roussillon  in  half-bottles.  "  All  right,"  said  I. 
"  Another  bottle."  The  tables  at  this  eating-house  are 
close  together;  and  the  next  thing  I  can  remember,  I 
was  in  somewhat  loud  conversation  with  my  nearest 
neighbours.  From  these  I  must  have  gradually  extended 
my  attentions ;  for  I  have  a  clear  recollection  of  gazing 
about  a  room  in  which  every  chair  was  half  turned  round 
and  every  face  turned  smilingly  to  mine.  I  can  even 
remember  what  I  was  saying  at  the  moment;  but  after 
twenty  years,  the  embers  of  shame  are  still  alive ;  and  I 
prefer  to  give  your  imagination  the  cue,  by  simply  men- 
tioning that  my  muse  was  the  patriotic.  It  had  been  my 
design  to  adjourn  for  coffee  in  the  company  of  some  of 
these  new  friends;  but  I  was  no  sooner  on  the  sidewalk 
than  I  found  myself  unaccountably  alone.     The  circum- 

36 


ROUSSILLON   WINR 

stance  scarce  surprised  me  at  the  time,  much  less  now; 
but  I  was  somewhat  chagrined  a  little  after  to  find  I  had 
walked  into  a  kiosque.  I  began  to  wonder  if  I  were 
any  the  worse  for  my  last  bottle,  and  decided  to  steady 
myself  with  coffee  and  brandy.  In  the  Cafe  de  la  Source, 
where  I  went  for  this  restorative,  the  fountain  was  play- 
ing, and  (what  greatly  surprised  me)  the  mill  and  the 
various  mechanical  figures  on  the  rockery  appeared  to 
have  been  freshly  repaired  and  performed  the  most  en- 
chanting antics.  The  cafe  was  extraordinarily  hot  and 
bright,  with  every  detail  of  a  conspicuous  clearness, 
from  the  faces  of  the  guests  to  the  type  of  the  news- 
papers on  the  tables,  and  the  whole  apartment  swang  to 
and  fro  like  a  hammock,  with  an  exhilarating  motion. 
For  some  while  I  was  so  extremely  pleased  with  these 
particulars  that  I  thought  I  could  never  be  weary  of  be- 
holding them :  then  dropped  of  a  sudden  into  a  cause- 
less sadness;  and  then,  with  the  same  swiftness  and 
spontaneity,  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  I  was  drunk 
and  had  better  get  to  bed. 

It  was  but  a  step  or  two  to  my  hotel,  where  I  got  my 
lighted  candle  from  the  porter  and  mounted  the  four 
flights  to  my  own  room.  Although  I  could  not  deny 
that  I  was  drunk,  I  was  at  the  same  time  lucidly  rational 
and  practical.  I  had  but  one  preoccupation  — to  be  up  in 
time  on  the  morrow  for  my  work ;  and  when  I  observed 
the  clock  on  my  chimney-piece  to  have  stopped,  I  decided 
to  go  down  stairs  again  and  give  directions  to  the  porter. 
Leaving  the  candle  burning  and  my  door  open,  to  be  a 
guide  to  me  on  my  return,  I  set  forth  accordingly.  The 
house  was  quite  dark;  but  as  there  were  only  the  three 
doors  on  each  landing,  it  was  impossible  to  wander,  and 

37 


THE  WRECKER 

I  had  nothing  to  do  but  descend  the  stairs  until  I  saw 
the  glimmer  of  the  porter's  night  light.  I  counted  four 
flights :  no  porter.  It  was  possible,  of  course,  that  I  had 
reckoned  incorrectly ;  so  I  went  down  another  and  an- 
other, and  another,  still  counting  as  I  went,  until  I  had 
reached  the  preposterous  figure  of  nine  flights.  It  was 
now  quite  clear  that  I  had  somehow  passed  the  porter's 
lodge  without  remarking  it;  indeed,  I  was,  at  the  lowest 
figure,  five  pairs  of  stairs  below  the  street,  and  plunged 
in  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth.  That  my  hotel  should 
thus  be  founded  upon  catacombs  was  a  discovery  of  con- 
siderable interest;  and  if  I  had  not  been  in  a  frame  of 
mind  entirely  businesslike,  I  might  have  continued  to 
explore  all  night  this  subterranean  empire.  But  I  was 
bound  I  must  be  up  betimes  on  the  next  morning,  and  for 
that  end  it  was  imperative  that  I  should  find  the  porter. 
I  faced  about  accordingly,  and  counting  with  painful 
care,  remounted  towards  the  level  of  the  street.  Five, 
six,  and  seven  flights  I  climbed,  and  still  there  was  no 
porter.  I  began  to  be  weary  of  the  job,  and  reflecting 
that  I  was  now  close  to  my  own  room,  decided  I  should 
go  to  bed.  Eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve,  thirteen 
flights  I  mounted ;  and  my  open  door  seemed  to  be  as 
wholly  lost  to  me  as  the  porter  and  his  floating  dip. 
I  remembered  that  the  house  stood  but  six  stories  at  its 
highest  point,  from  which  it  appeared  (on  the  most  mod- 
erate computation)  I  was  now  three  stories  higher  than 
the  roof.  My  original  sense  of  amusement  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  not  unnatural  irritation.  "My  room  has 
just  got  to  be  here,"  said  I,  and  I  stepped  towards  the 
door  with  outspread  arms.  There  was  no  door  and  no 
wall;  in  place  of  either  there  yawned  before  me  a  dark 

38 


ROUSSILLON   WINE 

corridor,  in  which  I  continued  to  advance  for  some  time 
without  encountering  the  smallest  opposition.  And  this 
in  a  house  whose  extreme  area  scantily  contained  three 
small  rooms,  a  narrow  landing,  and  the  stair !  The  thing 
was  manifestly  nonsense;  and  you  will  scarcely  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  that  I  now  began  to  lose  my  temper.  At 
this  juncture  I  perceived  a  filtering  of  light  along  the 
floor,  stretched  forth  my  hand  which  encountered  the 
knob  of  a  door-handle,  and  without  further  ceremony 
entered  a  room.  A  young  lady  was  within ;  she  was 
going  to  bed,  and  her  toilet  was  far  advanced,  or  the 
other  way  about,  if  you  prefer. 

"  I  hope  you  will  pardon  this  intrusion,"  said  I ;  "but 
my  room  is  No.  12,  and  something  has  gone  wrong  with 
this  blamed  house." 

She  looked  at  me  a  moment:  and  then,  "  If  you  will 
step  outside  for  a  moment,  I  will  take  you  there,"  says 
she. 

Thus,  with  perfect  composure  on  both  sides,  the 
matter  was  arranged.  I  waited  awhile  outside  her  door. 
Presently  she  rejoined  me,  in  a  dressing-gown,  took  my 
hand,  led  me  up  another  flight,  which  made  the  fourth 
above  the  level  of  the  roof,  and  shut  me  into  my  own 
room,  where  (being  quite  weary  after  these  contraordi- 
nary  explorations)  I  turned  in,  and  slumbered  like  a 
child. 

I  tell  you  the  thing  calmly,  as  it  appeared  to  me  to 
pass;  but  the  next  day,  when  I  awoke  and  put  memory 
in  the  witness-box,  I  could  not  conceal  from  myself  that 
the  tale  presented  a  good  many  improbable  features.  I 
had  no  mind  for  the  studio,  after  all,  and  went  instead 
to  the  Luxembourg  gardens,  there,  among  the  sparrows 

39 


THE  WRECKER 

and  the  statues  and  the  falling  leaves,  to  cool  and  clear 
my  head.  It  is  a  garden  I  have  always  loved.  You  sit 
there  in  a  public  place  of  history  and  fiction.  Barras 
and  Fouche  have  looked  from  these  windows.  Lousteau 
and  de  Banville  (one  as  real  as  the  other)  have  rhymed 
upon  these  benches.  The  city  tramples  by  without  the 
railings  to  a  lively  measure ;  and  within  and  about  you, 
trees  rustle,  children  and  sparrows  utter  their  small 
cries,  and  the  statues  look  on  forever.  Here,  then,  in  a 
seat  opposite  the  gallery  entrance,  I  set  to  work  on  the 
events  of  the  last  night,  to  disengage  (if  it  were  possi- 
ble) truth  from  fiction. 

The  house,  by  daylight,  had  proved  to  be  six  stories 
high,  the  same  as  ever.  I  could  find,  with  all  my  archi- 
tectural experience,  no  room  in  its  altitude  for  those  in- 
terminable stairways,  no  width  between  its  walls  for 
that  long  corridor,  where  I  had  tramped  at  night.  And 
there  was  yet  a  greater  difficulty.  I  had  read  some- 
where an  aphorism  that  everything  may  be  false  to  it- 
self save  human  nature.  A  house  might  elongate  or 
enlarge  itself — or  seem  to  do  so  to  a  gentleman  who 
had  been  dining.  The  ocean  might  dry  up,  the  rocks 
melt  in  the  sun,  the  stars  fall  from  heaven  like  autumn 
apples;  and  there  was  nothing  in  these  incidents  to 
boggle  the  philosopher.  But  the  case  of  the  young  lady 
stood  upon  a  different  foundation.  Girls  were  not  good 
enough,  or  not  good  that  way,  or  else  they  were  too 
good.  I  was  ready  to  accept  any  of  these  views:  all 
pointed  to  the  same  conclusion,  which  I  was  thus  al- 
ready on  the  point  of  reaching,  when  a  fresh  argument 
occurred,  and  instantly  confirmed  it.  I  could  remem- 
ber the  exact  words  we  had  each  said ;  and  I  had  spoken, 

4° 


ROUSSILLON   WINE 

and  she  had  replied,  in  English.  Plainly,  then,  the 
whole  affair  was  an  illusion :  catacombs,  and  stairs,  and 
charitable  lady,  all  were  equally  the  stuff  of  dreams. 

I  had  just  come  to  this  determination,  when  there 
blew  a  flaw  of  wind  through  the  autumnal  gardens; 
the  dead  leaves  showered  down,  and  a  flight  of  spar- 
rows, thick  as  a  snowfall,  wheeled  above  my  head  with 
sudden  pipings.  This  agreeable  bustle  was  the  affair 
of  a  moment,  but  it  startled  me  from  the  abstraction 
into  which  I  had  fallen,  like  a  summons.  I  sat  briskly 
up,  and  as  I  did  so,  my  eyes  rested  on  the  figure  of  a 
lady  in  a  brown  jacket  and  carrying  a  paint-box.  By 
her  side  walked  a  fellow  some  years  older  than  myself, 
with  an  easel  under  his  arm ;  and  alike  by  their  course 
and  cargo  I  might  judge  they  were  bound  for  the  gal- 
lery, where  the  lady  was,  doubtless,  engaged  upon 
some  copying.  You  can  imagine  my  surprise  when  I 
recognised  in  her  the  heroine  of  my  adventure.  To 
put  the  matter  beyond  question,  our  eyes  met,  and  she, 
seeing  herself  remembered  and  recalling  the  trim  in 
which  I  had  last  beheld  her,  looked  swiftly  on  the 
ground  with  just  a  shadow  of  confusion. 

I  could  not  tell  you  to-day  if  she  were  plain  or  pretty; 
but  she  had  behaved  with  so  much  good  sense,  and  I 
had  cut  so  poor  a  figure  in  her  presence,  that  I  became 
instantly  fired  with  the  desire  to  display  myself  in  a 
more  favourable  light.  The  young  man  besides  was 
possibly  her  brother;  brothers  are  apt  to  be  hasty,  theirs 
being  a  part  in  which  it  is  possible,  at  a  comparatively 
early  age,  to  assume  the  dignity  of  manhood;  and  it 
occurred  to  me  it  might  be  wise  to  forestall  all  possible 
complications  by  an  apology. 

4* 


THE  WRECKER 

On  this  reasoning  I  drew  near  to  the  gallery  door, 
and  had  hardly  got  in  position  before  the  young  man 
came  out.  Thus  it  was  that  I  came  face  to  face  with 
my  third  destiny ;  for  my  career  has  been  entirely  shaped 
by  these  three  elements, — my  father,  the  capitol  of 
Muskegon,  and  my  friend,  Jim  Pinkerton.  As  for  the 
young  lady  with  whom  my  mind  was  at  the  moment 
chiefly  occupied,  I  was  never  to  hear  more  of  her  from 
that  day  forward:  an  excellent  example  of  the  Blind 
Man's  Buff  that  we  call  life. 


42 


CHAPTER  III 

TO  INTRODUCE  MR.    PINKERTON 

The  stranger,  I  have  said,  was  some  years  older  than 
myself :  a  man  of  a  good  stature,  a  very  lively  face,  cor- 
dial, agitated  manners,  and  a  gray  eye  as  active  as  a 
fowl's. 

"May  I  have  a  word  with  you  ?"  said  I. 

"My  dear  sir,"  he  replied,  "I  don't  know  what  it 
can  be  about,  but  you  may  have  a  hundred  if  you  like." 

"You  have  just  left  the  side  of  a  young  lady,"  I  con- 
tinued, "towards  whom  I  was  led  (very  unintention- 
ally) into  the  appearance  of  an  offence.  To  speak  to 
herself  would  be  only  to  renew  her  embarrassment,  and 
I  seize  the  occasion  of  making  my  apology,  and  declar- 
ing my  respect,  to  one  of  my  own  sex  who  is  her  friend, 
and  perhaps,"  I  added,  with  a  bow,  "her  natural  pro- 
tector." 

"You  are  a  countryman  of  mine;  I  know  it!"  he 
cried :  "  I  am  sure  of  it  by  your  delicacy  to  a  lady.  You 
do  her  no  more  than  justice.  I  was  introduced  to  her 
the  other  night  at  tea,  in  the  apartment  of  some  people, 
friends  of  mine;  and  meeting  her  again  this  morning,  I 
could  not  do  less  than  carry  her  easel  for  her.  My  dear 
sir,  what  is  your  name?" 

I  was  disappointed  to  find  he  had  so  little  bond  with 
43 


THE   WRECKER 

my  young  lady ;  and  but  that  it  was  I  who  had  sought 
the  acquaintance,  might  have  been  tempted  to  retreat. 
At  the  same  time,  something  in  the  stranger's  eye  en- 
gaged me. 

"My  name,"  said  I,  "is  Loudon  Dodd;  I  am  a  stu- 
dent of  sculpture  here  from  Muskegon." 

"Of  sculpture  ?  "  he  cried,  as  though  that  would  have 
been  his  last  conjecture.  "Mine  is  James  Pinkerton; 
I  am  delighted  to  have  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaint- 
ance." 

"Pinkerton!"  it  was  now  my  turn  to  exclaim.  "Are 
you  Broken-Stool  Pinkerton  ?  " 

He  admitted  his  identity  with  a  laugh  of  boyish  de- 
light; and  indeed  any  young  man  in  the  quarter  might 
have  been  proud  to  own  a  sobriquet  thus  gallantly  ac- 
quired. 

In  order  to  explain  the  name,  I  must  here  digress  into 
a  chapter  of  the  history  of  manners  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  very  well  worth  commemoration  for  its  own 
sake.  In  some  of  the  studios  at  that  date,  the  hazing  of 
new  pupils  was  both  barbarous  and  obscene.  Two  in- 
cidents following  one  on  the  heels  of  the  other  tended 
to  produce  an  advance  in  civilisation  by  the  means  (as 
so  commonly  happens)  of  a  passing  appeal  to  savage 
standards.  The  first  was  the  arrival  of  a  little  gentle- 
man from  Armenia.  He  had  a  fez  upon  his  head  and 
(what  nobody  counted  on)  a  dagger  in  his  pocket.  The 
hazing  was  set  about  in  the  customary  style,  and,  per- 
haps in  virtue  of  the  victim's  head-gear,  even  more 
boisterously  than  usual.  He  bore  it  at  first  with  an  in- 
viting patience;  but  upon  one  of  the  students  proceed- 
ing to  an  unpardonable  freedom,  plucked  out  his  knife 

44 


TO   INTRODUCE  MR.  P1NKERTON 

and  suddenly  plunged  it  in  the  belly  of  the  jester.  This 
gentleman,  I  am  pleased  to  say,  passed  months  upon  a 
bed  of  sickness,  before  he  was  in  a  position  to  resume 
his  studies.  The  second  incident  was  that  which  had 
earned  Pinkerton  his  reputation.  In  a  crowded  studio, 
while  some  very  filthy  brutalities  were  being  practised 
on  a  trembling  debutant,  a  tall,  pale  fellow  sprang  from 
his  stool  and  (without  the  smallest  preface  or  explana- 
tion) sang  out,  "All  English  and  Americans  to  clear 
the  shop!  "  Our  race  is  brutal,  but  not  filthy;  and  the 
summons  was  nobly  responded  to.  Every  Anglo- 
Saxon  student  seized  his  stool;  in  a  moment  the  studio 
was  full  of  bloody  coxcombs,  the  French  fleeing  in  dis- 
order for  the  door,  the  victim  liberated  and  amazed. 
In  this  feat  of  arms,  both  English-speaking  nations 
covered  themselves  with  glory;  but  I  am  proud  to 
claim  the  author  of  the  whole  for  an  American,  and  a 
patriotic  American  at  that,  being  the  same  gentleman 
who  had  subsequently  to  be  held  down  in  the  bottom 
of  a  box  during  a  performance  of  L'Oncle  Sam,  sob- 
bing at  intervals,  "My  country,  O  my  country!" 
While  yet  another  (my  new  acquaintance,  Pinkerton) 
was  supposed  to  have  made  the  most  conspicuous 
figure  in  the  actual  battle.  At  one  blow,  he  had  broken 
his  own  stool  and  sent  the  largest  of  his  opponents 
back  foremost  through  what  we  used  to  call  "a  con- 
scientious nude."  It  appears  that,  in  the  continuation 
of  his  flight,  this  fallen  warrior  issued  on  the  boulevard 
still  framed  in  the  burst  canvas. 

It  will  be  understood  how  much  talk  the  incident 
aroused  in  the  students'  quarter,  and  that  I  was  highly 
gratified  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  my  famous  coun- 

45 


THE  WRECKER 

tryman.  It  chanced  I  was  to  see  more  of  the  quixotic 
side  of  his  character  before  the  morning  was  done ;  for 
as  we  continued  to  stroll  together,  I  found  myself  near 
the  studio  of  a  young  Frenchman  whose  work  I  had 
promised  to  examine,  and  in  the  fashion  of  the  quarter 
carried  up  Pinkerton  along  with  me.  Some  of  my  com- 
rades of  this  date  were  pretty  obnoxious  fellows.  I 
could  almost  always  admire  and  respect  the  grown-up 
practitioners  of  art  in  Paris ;  but  many  of  those  who 
were  still  in  a  state  of  pupilage  were  sorry  specimens, 
so  much  so  that  I  used  often  to  wonder  where  the 
painters  came  from,  and  where  the  brutes  of  students 
went  to.  A  similar  mystery  hangs  over  the  intermediate 
stages  of  the  medical  profession,  and  must  have  per- 
plexed the  least  observant.  The  ruffian,  at  least,  whom 
I  now  carried  Pinkerton  to  visit,  was  one  of  the  most 
crapulous  in  the  quarter.  He  turned  out  for  our  delec- 
tation a  huge  "  crust"  (as  we  used  to  call  it)  of  St.  Ste- 
phen, wallowing  in  red  upon  his  belly  in  an  exhausted 
receiver,  and  a  crowd  of  Hebrews  in  blue,  green,  and 
yellow,  pelting  him  —  apparently  with  buns;  and  while 
we  gazed  upon  this  contrivance,  regaled  us  with  a  piece 
of  his  own  recent  biography,  of  which  his  mind  was  still 
very  full,  and  which  he  seemed  to  fancy  represented  him 
in  a  heroic  posture.  I  was  one  of  those  cosmopolitan 
Americans,  who  accept  the  world  (whether  at  home  or 
abroad)  as  they  find  it,  and  whose  favourite  part  is  that 
of  the  spectator;  yet  even  I  was  listening  with  ill-sup- 
pressed disgust,  when  I  was  aware  of  a  violent  plucking 
at  my  sleeve. 

"Is  he  saying  he  kicked  her  down  stairs?"  asked 
Pinkerton,  white  as  St.  Stephen. 

46 


TO   INTRODUCE  MR.  PINKERTON 

"Yes,"  said  I:  "his  discarded  mistress;  and  then  he 
pelted  her  with  stones.  I  suppose  that's  what  gave 
him  the  idea  for  his  picture.  He  has  just  been  alleging 
the  pathetic  excuse  that  she  was  old  enough  to  be  his 
mother." 

Something  like  a  sob  broke  from  Pinkerton.  "Tell 
him,"  he  gasped —  "I  can't  speak  this  language,  though 
1  understand  a  little;  I  never  had  any  proper  education 
—  tell  him  I'm  going  to  punch  his  head." 

"For  God's  sake,  do  nothing  of  the  sort!"  I  cried. 
"They  don't  understand  that  sort  of  thing  here."  And 
I  tried  to  bundle  him  out. 

"Tell  him  first  what  we  think  of  him,"  he  objected. 
"  Let  me  tell  him  what  he  looks  in  the  eyes  of  a  pure- 
minded  American." 

"  Leave  that  to  me,"  said  I,  thrusting  Pinkerton  clear 
through  the  door. 

"  Qu'est-ce  qu'il  a}"1  inquired  the  student. 

"  Monsieur  se  sent  mal  au  coeur  d' avoir  trop  regardi 
votre  croute,"2  said  I,  and  made  my  escape,  scarce 
with  dignity,  at  Pinkerton's  heels. 

"  What  did  you  say  to  him  ?  "  he  asked. 

"The  only  thing  that  he  could  feel,"  was  my  reply. 

After  this  scene,  the  freedom  with  which  I  had  ejected 
my  new  acquaintance,  and  the  precipitation  with  which 
I  had  followed  him,  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  propose 
luncheon.  I  have  forgot  the  name  of  the  place  to  which 
I  led  him,  nothing  loath ;  it  was  on  the  far  side  of  the 
Luxembourg  at  least,  with  a  garden  behind,  where  we 

1 "  What's  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

2  "  The  gentleman  is  sick  at  bis  stomach  from  having  looked  too 
long  at  your  daub." 

47 


THE  WRECKER 

were  speedily  set  face  to  face  at  table,  and  began  to  dig 
into  each  other's  history  and  character,  like  terriers  after 
rabbits,  according  to  the  approved  fashion  of  youth. 

Pinkerton's  parents  were  from  the  old  country ;  there 
too,  I  incidentally  gathered,  he  had  himself  been  born, 
though  it  was  a  circumstance  he  seemed  prone  to  forget. 
Whether  he  had  run  away,  or  his  father  had  turned  him 
out,  I  never  fathomed ;  but  about  the  age  of  twelve,  he 
was  thrown  upon  his  own  resources.  A  travelling  tin- 
type photographer  picked  him  up,  like  a  haw  out  of  a 
hedgerow,  on  a  wayside  in  New  Jersey ;  took  a  fancy  to 
the  urchin ;  carried  him  on  with  him  in  his  wandering 
life;  taught  him  all  he  knew  himself — to  take  tin- 
types (as  well  as  I  can  make  out)  and  doubt  the  Scrip- 
tures ;  and  died  at  last  in  Ohio  at  the  corner  of  a  road. 
"  He  was  a  grand  specimen,"  cried  Pinkerton;  "  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  him,  Mr.  Dodd.  He  had  an  ap- 
pearance of  magnanimity  that  used  to  remind  me  of  the 
patriarchs."  On  the  death  of  this  random  protector, 
the  boy  inherited  the  plant  and  continued  the  business. 
"It  was  a  life  I  could  have  chosen,  Mr.  Dodd!"  he 
cried.  "I  have  been  in  all  the  finest  scenes  of  that 
magnificent  continent  that  we  were  born  to  be  the  heirs 
of.  I  wish  you  could  see  my  collection  of  tin-types;  I 
wish  I  had  them  here.  They  were  taken  for  my  own 
pleasure  and  to  be  a  memento;  and  they  show  Nature 
in  her  grandest  as  well  as  her  gentlest  moments."  As 
he  tramped  the  Western  States  and  Territories,  taking 
tin-types,  the  boy  was  continually  getting  hold  of  books, 
good,  bad,  and  indifferent,  popular  and  abstruse,  from 
the  novels  of  Sylvanus  Cobb  to  Euclid's  Elements,  both 
of  which  I  found  (to  my  almost  equal  wonder)  he  had 

48 


TO   INTRODUCE   MR.  P1NKERTON 

managed  to  peruse :  he  was  taking  stock  by  the  way, 
of  the  people,  the  products,  and  the  country,  with  an  eye 
unusually  observant  and  a  memory  unusually  retentive; 
and  he  was  collecting  for  himself  a  body  of  magnani- 
mous and  semi-intellectual  nonsense,  which  he  supposed 
to  be  the  natural  thoughts  and  to  contain  the  whole 
duty  of  the  born  American.  To  be  pure-minded,  to  be 
patriotic,  to  get  culture  and  money  with  both  hands 
and  with  the  same  irrational  fervour  —  these  appeared 
to  be  the  chief  articles  of  his  creed.  In  later  days  (not 
of  course  upon  this  first  occasion)  I  would  sometimes 
ask  him  why;  and  he  had  his  answer  pat.  "To  build 
up  the  type ! "  he  would  cry.  "  We're  all  committed  to 
that;  we're  all  under  bond  to  fulfil  the  American  Type! 
Loudon,  the  hope  of  the  world  is  there.  If  we  fail,  like 
these  old  feudal  monarchies,  what  is  left  ?  " 

The  trade  of  a  tin-typer  proved  too  narrow  for  the 
lad's  ambition;  it  was  insusceptible  of  expansion,  he  ex- 
plained; it  was  not  truly  modern;  and  by  a  sudden  con- 
version of  front,  he  became  a  railroad-scalper.  The 
principles  of  this  trade  I  never  clearly  understood ;  but 
its  essence  appears  to  be  to  cheat  the  railroads  out  of 
their  due  fare.  "I  threw  my  whole  soul  into  it;  I 
grudged  myself  food  and  sleep  while  I  was  at  it;  the 
most  practised  hands  admitted  I  had  caught  on  to  the 
idea  in  a  month  and  revolutionised  the  practice  inside 
of  a  year,"  he  said.  "And  there's  interest  in  it,  too. 
It's  amusing  to  pick  out  some  one  going  by,  make  up 
your  mind  about  his  character  and  tastes,  dash  out  of 
the  office  and  hit  him  flying  with  an  offer  of  the  very 
place  he  wants  to  go  to.  I  don't  think  there  was  a 
scalper  on  the  continent  made  fewer  blunders.     But  I 

49 


THE  WRECKER 

took  it  only  as  a  stage.  I  was  saving  every  dollar;  I 
was  looking  ahead.  I  knew  what  I  wanted  —  wealth, 
education,  a  refined  home,  and  a  conscientious,  cultured 
lady  for  a  wife;  for,  Mr.  Dodd  " — this  with  a  formidable 
outcry — "every  man  is  bound  to  marry  above  him:  if 
the  woman's  not  the  man's  superior,  I  brand  it  as  mere 
sensuality.  There  was  my  idea,  at  least.  That  was 
what  I  was  saving  for;  and  enough,  too!  But  it  isn't 
every  man,  I  know  that  —  it's  far  from  every  man — ■ 
could  do  what  I  did:  close  up  the  livest  agency  in  Saint 
Jo,  where  he  was  coining  dollars  by  the  pot,  set  out 
alone,  without  a  friend  or  a  word  of  French,  and  settle 
down  here  to  spend  his  capital  learning  art." 

"Was  it  an  old  taste?"  I  asked  him,  "or  a  sudden 
fancy?" 

"Neither,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  admitted.  "Of  course,  I 
had  learned  in  my  tin-typing  excursions  to  glory  and 
exult  in  the  works  of  God.  But  it  wasn't  that.  I  just 
said  to  myself,  What  is  most  wanted  in  my  age  and 
country  ?  More  culture  and  more  art,  I  said ;  and  I 
chose  the  best  place,  saved  my  money,  and  came  here 
to  get  them." 

The  whole  attitude  of  this  young  man  warmed  and 
shamed  me.  He  had  more  fire  in  his  little  toe  than  I 
in  my  whole  carcase;  he  was  stuffed  to  bursting  with 
the  manly  virtues ;  thrift  and  courage  glowed  in  him ; 
and  even  if  his  artistic  vocation  seemed  (to  one  of  my 
exclusive  tenets)  not  quite  clear,  who  could  predict 
what  might  be  accomplished  by  a  creature  so  full- 
blooded  and  so  inspired  with  animal  and  intellectual 
energy  ?  So,  when  he  proposed  that  I  should  come 
and  see  his  work  (one  of  the  regular  stages  of  a  Latin 

50 


TO   INTRODUCE  MR.  P1NKERTON 

Quarter  friendship)  I  followed  him  with  interest  and 
hope. 

He  lodged  parsimoniously  at  the  top  of  a  tall  house 
near  the  Observatory,  in  a  bare  room,  principally  fur- 
nished with  his  own  trunks  and  papered  with  his  own 
despicable  studies.  No  man  has  less  taste  for  disagree- 
able duties  than  myself;  perhaps  there  is  only  one  sub- 
ject on  which  I  cannot  flatter  a  man  without  a  blush ; 
but  upon  that,  upon  all  that  touches  art,  my  sincerity  is 
Roman.  Once  and  twice  I  made  the  circuit  of  his  walls 
in  silence,  spying  in  every  corner  for  some  spark  of 
merit;  he,  meanwhile,  following  close  at  my  heels,  read- 
ing the  verdict  in  my  face  with  furtive  glances,  present- 
ing some  fresh  study  for  my  inspection  with  undisguised 
anxiety,  and  (after  it  had  been  silently  weighed  in  the 
balances  and  found  wanting)  whisking  it  away  with  an 
open  gesture  of  despair.  By  the  time  the  second  round 
was  completed,  we  were  both  extremely  depressed. 

"O!"  he  groaned,  breaking  the  long  silence,  "it's 
quite  unnecessary  you  should  speak! " 

"Do  you  want  me  to  be  frank  with  you?  I  think 
you  are  wasting  time,"  said  I. 

"  You  don't  see  any  promise  ?"  he  inquired,  beguiled 
by  some  return  of  hope,  and  turning  upon  me  the  em- 
barrassing brightness  of  his  eye.  "Not  in  this  still-life 
here,  of  the  melon  ?    One  fellow  thought  it  good." 

It  was  the  least  I  could  do  to  give  the  melon  a  more 
particular  examination ;  which,  when  I  had  done,  I  could 
but  shake  my  head.  "I  am  truly  sorry,  Pinkerton," 
said  I,  "but  I  can't  advise  you  to  persevere." 

He  seemed  to  recover  his  fortitude  at  the  moment, 
rebounding  from  disappointment  like  a  man  of  india- 

5» 


THE  WRECKER 

rubber.  "Well,"  said  he,  stoutly,  "I  don't  know  that 
I'm  surprised.  But  I'll  go  on  with  the  course;  and 
throw  my  whole  soul  into  it,  too.  You  mustn't  think 
the  time  is  lost.  It's  all  culture ;  it  will  help  me  to  ex- 
tend my  relations  when  I  get  back  home ;  it  may  fit  me 
for  a  position  on  one  of  the  illustrateds ;  and  then  I  can 
always  turn  dealer,"  he  said,  uttering  the  monstrous 
proposition,  which  was  enough  to  shake  the  Latin  Quar- 
ter to  the  dust,  with  entire  simplicity.  "  It's  all  experi- 
ence, besides;"  he  continued,  "and  it  seems  to  me 
there's  a  tendency  to  underrate  experience,  both  as  net 
profit  and  investment.  Never  mind.  That's  done  with. 
But  it  took  courage  for  you  to  say  what  you  did,  and 
I'll  never  forget  it.  Here's  my  hand,  Mr.  Dodd.  I'm 
not  your  equal  in  culture  or  talent " 

"You  know  nothing  about  that,"  I  interrupted.  "1 
have  seen  your  work,  but  you  haven't  seen  mine." 

"No  more  I  have,"  he  cried;  "and  let's  go  see  it  at 
once!  But  I  know  you  are  away  up.  I  can  feel  it 
here." 

To  say  truth,  I  was  almost  ashamed  to  introduce  him 
to  my  studio  —  my  work,  whether  absolutely  good  or 
bad,  being  so  vastly  superior  to  his.  But  his  spirits 
were  now  quite  restored ;  and  he  amazed  me,  on  the 
way,  with  his  light-hearted  talk  and  new  projects.  So 
that  I  began  at  last  to  understand  how  matters  lay :  that 
this  was  not  an  artist  who  had  been  deprived  of  the 
practice  of  his  single  art ;  but  only  a  business  man  of 
very  extended  interests,  informed  (perhaps  something 
of  the  most  suddenly)  that  one  investment  out  of  twenty 
had  gone  wrong. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  besides  (although  I  never  sus- 

52 


TO   INTRODUCE  MR.  PINKERTON 

pected  it)  he  was  already  seeking  consolation  with 
another  of  the  muses,  and  pleasing  himself  with  the 
notion  that  he  would  repay  me  for  my  sincerity,  cement 
our  friendship,  and  (at  one  and  the  same  blow)  restore 
my  estimation  of  his  talents.  Several  times  already, 
when  I  had  been  speaking  of  myself,  he  had  pulled  out 
a  writing-pad  and  scribbled  a  brief  note;  and  now,  when 
we  entered  the  studio,  I  saw  it  in  his  hand  again,  and 
the  pencil  go  to  his  mouth,  as  he  cast  a  comprehensive 
glance  round  the  uncomfortable  building. 

"Are  you  going  to  make  a  sketch  of  it  ?  "  I  could  not 
help  asking,  as  I  unveiled  the  Genius  of  Muskegon. 

"Ah,  that's  my  secret,"  said  he.  "Never  you  mind. 
A  mouse  can  help  a  lion." 

He  walked  round  my  statue  and  had  the  design  ex- 
plained to  him.  I  had  represented  Muskegon  as  a  young, 
almost  a  stripling,  mother,  with  something  of  an  Indian 
type ;  the  babe  upon  her  knees  was  winged,  to  indicate 
our  soaring  future ;  and  her  seat  was  a  medley  of  sculp- 
tured fragments,  Greek,  Roman,  and  Gothic,  to  remind 
us  of  the  older  worlds  from  which  we  trace  our  gen- 
eration. 

"Now,  does  this  satisfy  you,  Mr.  Dodd?"  he  in- 
quired, as  soon  as  I  had  explained  to  him  the  main  fea- 
tures of  the  design. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "the  fellows  seem  to  think  it's  not 
a  bad  bonne  femme  for  a  beginner.  I  don't  think  it's 
entirely  bad,  myself.  Here  is  the  best  point;  it  builds 
up  best  from  here.  No,  it  seems  to  me  it  has  a  kind  of 
merit,"  I  admitted;  "but  I  mean  to  do  better." 

"Ah,  that's  the  word!"  cried  Pinkerton.  "There's 
the  word  I  love! "  and  he  scribbled  in  his  pad. 

53 


THE  WRECKER 

"  What  in  creation  ails  you  ?  "  I  inquired.  "  It's  the 
most  commonplace  expression  in  the  English  language." 

"Better  and  better!"  chuckled  Pinkerton.  "The 
unconsciousness  of  genius.  Lord,  but  this  is  coming  in 
beautiful!"  and  he  scribbled  again. 

"If  you're  going  to  be  fulsome,"  said  I,  "I'll  close 
the  place  of  entertainment"  And  I  threatened  to  re- 
place the  veil  upon  the  Genius. 

' '  No,  no, "  said  he.  ' '  Don't  be  in  a  hurry.  Give  me 
a  point  or  two.     Show  me  what's  particularly  good." 

"I  would  rather  you  found  that  out  for  yourself," 
said  I. 

"The  trouble  is,"  said  he,  "that  I've  never  turned  my 
attention  to  sculpture,  beyond,  of  course,  admiring  it, 
as  everybody  must  who  has  a  soul.  So  do  just  be  a 
good  fellow,  and  explain  to  me  what  you  like  in  it,  and 
what  you  tried  for,  and  where  the  merit  comes  in.  It'll 
be  all  education  for  me." 

"Well,  in  sculpture,  you  see,  the  first  thing  you  have 
to  consider  is  the  masses.  It's,  after  all,  a  kind  of  archi- 
tecture," I  began,  and  delivered  a  lecture  on  that  branch 
of  art,  with  illustrations  from  my  own  masterpiece  there 
present,  all  of  which,  if  you  don't  mind,  or  whether 
you  mind  or  not,  I  mean  to  conscientiously  omit.  Pin- 
kerton listened  with  a  fiery  interest,  questioned  me  with 
a  certain  uncultivated  shrewdness,  and  continued  to 
scratch  down  notes,  and  tear  fresh  sheets  from  his  pad. 
I  found  it  inspiring  to  have  my  words  thus  taken  down 
like  a  professor's  lecture;  and  having  had  no  previous 
experience  of  the  press,  I  was  unaware  that  they  were 
all  being  taken  down  wrong.  For  the  same  reason  (in- 
credible as  it  must  appear  in  an  American)  I  never  enter- 

54 


TO  INTRODUCE   MR.  PINKERTON 

tained  the  least  suspicion  that  they  were  destined  to  be 
dished  up  with  a  sauce  of  penny-a-lining  gossip;  and 
myself,  my  person,  and  my  works  of  art  butchered  to 
make  a  holiday  for  the  readers  of  a  Sunday  paper. 
Night  had  fallen  over  the  Genius  of  Muskegon  before 
the  issue  of  my  theoretic  eloquence  was  stayed,  nor 
did  I  separate  from  my  new  friend  without  an  appoint- 
ment for  the  morrow. 

I  was  indeed  greatly  taken  with  this  first  view  of  my 
countryman,  and  continued,  on  further  acquaintance,  to 
be  interested,  amused,  and  attracted  by  him  in  about 
equal  proportions.  I  must  not  say  he  had  a  fault,  not 
only  because  my  mouth  is  sealed  by  gratitude,  but  be- 
cause those  he  had  sprang  merely  from  his  education, 
and  you  could  see  he  had  cultivated  and  improved  them 
like  virtues.  For  all  that,  I  can  never  deny  he  was  a 
troublous  friend  to  me,  and  the  trouble  began  early. 

It  may  have  been  a  fortnight  later  that  I  divined  the 
secret  of  the  writing-pad.  My  wretch  (it  leaked  out) 
wrote  letters  for  a  paper  in  the  West,  and  had  filled  a 
part  of  one  of  them  with  descriptions  of  myself.  I 
pointed  out  to  him  that  he  had  no  right  to  do  so  with- 
out asking  my  permission. 

"Why,  this  is  just  what  I  hoped!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  thought  you  didn't  seem  to  catch  on ;  only  it  seemed 
too  good  to  be  true." 

"But,  my  good  fellow,  you  were  bound  to  warn  me," 
I  objected. 

"I  know  it's  generally  considered  etiquette,"  he  ad- 
mitted; "but  between  friends,  and  when  it  was  only 
with  a  view  of  serving  you,  I  thought  it  wouldn't  matter. 
I  wanted  it  (if  possible)  to  come  on  you  as  a  surprise; 

55 


THE  WRECKER 

I  wanted  you  just  to  waken,  like  Lord  Byron,  and  find 
the  papers  full  of  you.  You  must  admit  it  was  a  natural 
thought.  And  no  man  likes  to  boast  of  a  favour  before- 
hand." 

"  But  heavens  and  earth!  how  do  you  know  I  think 
it  a  favour  ?  M  I  cried. 

He  became  immediately  plunged  in  despair.  "  You 
think  it  a  liberty, "  said  he ;  "  I  see  that.  I  would  rather 
have  cut  off  my  hand.  I  would  stop  it  now,  only  it's  too 
late;  it's  published  by  now.  And  I  wrote  it  with  so 
much  pride  and  pleasure!  " 

I  could  think  of  nothing  but  how  to  console  him. 
"O,  I  daresay  it's  all  right,"  said  I.  "I  know  you 
meant  it  kindly,  and  you  would  be  sure  to  do  it  in  good 
taste." 

"That  you  may  swear  to,"  he  cried.  "It's  a  pure, 
bright,  A  number  i  paper;  the  St.  Jo  Sunday  Herald. 
The  idea  of  the  series  was  quite  my  own ;  I  interviewed 
the  editor,  put  it  to  him  straight;  the  freshness  of  the 
idea  took  him,  and  I  walked  out  of  that  office  with  the 
contract  in  my  pocket,  and  did  my  first  Paris  letter 
that  evening  in  St.  Jo.  The  editor  did  no  more  than 
glance  his  eye  down  the  headlines.  '  You're  the  man 
for  us,'  said  he." 

I  was  certainly  far  from  reassured  by  this  sketch  of 
the  class  of  literature  in  which  I  was  to  make  my  first 
appearance;  but  I  said  no  more,  and  possessed  my  soul 
in  patience,  until  the  day  came  when  I  received  a  copy 
of  a  newspaper  marked  in  the  corner,  "  Compliments  of 
J.  P."  I  opened  it  with  sensible  shrinkings ;  and  there, 
wedged  between  an  account  of  a  prize-fight  and  a  skit- 
tish article  upon  chiropody  —  think  of  chiropody  treated 

56 


TO   INTRODUCE  MR.  PINKERTON 

with  a  leer!  —  I  came  upon  a  column  and  a  half  in 
which  myself  and  my  poor  statue  were  embalmed. 
Like  the  editor  with  the  first  of  the  series,  I  did  but 
glance  my  eye  down  the  head-lines  and  was  more  than 
satisfied. 

ANOTHER  OF  PINKERTON'S  SPICY  CHATS. 

ART  PRACTITIONERS   IN   PARIS. 
MUSKEGON'S  COLUMNED   CAPITOL. 

SON   OF  MILLIONAIRE   DODD, 

PATRIOT   AND   ARTIST. 

"HE    MEANS    TO    DO    BETTER." 

In  the  body  of  the  text  besides,  my  eye  caught,  as  it 
passed,  some  deadly  expressions:  " Figure  somewhat 
fleshy,"  "bright,  intellectual  smile,"  "  the  unconscious- 
ness of  genius,"  u  '  Now,  Mr.  Dodd,'  resumed  the  re- 
porter, '  what  would  be  your  idea  of  a  distinctively 
American  quality  in  sculpture?'"  It  was  true  the 
question  had  been  asked ;  it  was  true,  alas !  that  I  had 
answered ;  and  now  here  was  my  reply,  or  some  strange 
hash  of  it,  gibbetted  in  the  cold  publicity  of  type.  I 
thanked  God  that  my  French  fellow-students  were  ig- 
norant of  English ;  but  when  I  thought  of  the  British 
—  of  Myner  (for  instance)  or  the  Stennises  —  I  think  I 
could  have  fallen  on  Pinkerton  and  beat  him. 

To  divert  my  thoughts  (if  it  were  possible)  from  this 
calamity,  I  turned  to  a  letter  from  my  father  which  had 
arrived  by  the  same  post.  The  envelope  contained  a 
strip  of  newspaper-cutting ;  and  my  eye  caught  again, 
"Son  of  Millionaire  Dodd  —  Figure  somewhat  fleshy," 
and  the  rest  of  the  degrading  nonsense.     What  would 

57 


THE  WRECKER 

my  father  think  of  it?  I  wondered,  and  opened  his 
manuscript.  "My  dearest  boy,"  it  began,  "  I  send  you 
a  cutting,  which  has  pleased  me  very  much,  from  a  St. 
Joseph  paper  of  high  standing.  At  last  you  seem  to 
be  coming  fairly  to  the  front;  and  I  cannot  but  reflect 
with  delight  and  gratitude  how  very  few  youths  of  your 
age  occupy  nearly  two  columns  of  press-matter  all  to 
themselves.  I  only  wish  your  dear  mother  had  been 
here  to  read  it  over  my  shoulder;  but  we  will  hope  she 
shares  my  grateful  emotion  in  a  better  place.  Of  course 
I  have  sent  a  copy  to  your  grandfather  and  uncle  in 
Edinburgh;  so  you  can  keep  the  one  I  enclose.  This 
Jim  Pinkerton  seems  a  valuable  acquaintance;  he  has 
certainly  great  talent;  and  it  is  a  good  general  rule  to 
keep  in  with  pressmen." 

I  hope  it  will  be  set  down  to  the  right  side  of  my  ac- 
count, but  I  had  no  sooner  read  these  words,  so  touch- 
ingly  silly,  than  my  anger  against  Pinkerton  was  swal- 
lowed up  in  gratitude.  Of  all  the  circumstances  of  my 
career,  my  birth,  perhaps,  excepted,  not  one  had  given 
my  poor  father  so  profound  a  pleasure  as  this  article  in 
the  Sunday  Herald.  What  a  fool,  then,  was  I,  to  be 
lamenting!  when  I  had  at  last,  and  for  once,  and  at  the 
cost  of  only  a  few  blushes,  paid  back  a  fraction  of  my 
debt  of  gratitude.  So  that,  when  I  next  met  Pinker- 
ton, I  took  things  very  lightly;  my  father  was  pleased, 
and  thought  the  letter  very  clever,  I  told  him ;  for  my 
own  part,  I  had  no  taste  for  publicity :  thought  the  pub- 
lic had  no  concern  with  the  artist,  only  with  his  art; 
and  though  I  owned  he  had  handled  it  with  great  con- 
sideration, I  should  take  it  as  a  favour  if  he  never  did  it 
again. 

58 


TO   INTRODUCE   MR.  PINKERTON 

"There  it  is,"  he  said,  despondingly.  "I've  hurt 
you.  You  can't  deceive  me,  Loudon.  It's  the  want  of 
tact,  and  it's  incurable."  He  sat  down,  and  leaned  his 
head  upon  his  hand.  "I  had  no  advantages  when  I 
was  young,  you  see,"  he  added. 

"Not  in  the  least,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  I.  "Only 
the  next  time  you  wish  to  do  me  a  service,  just  speak 
about  my  work;  leave  my  wretched  person  out,  and 
my  still  more  wretched  conversation;  and  above  all,"  I 
added,  with  an  irrepressible  shudder,  "don't  tell  them 
how  I  said  it!  There's  that  phrase,  now:  'With  a 
proud,  glad  smile.'  Who  cares  whether  I  smiled  or 
not?" 

"O,  there  now,  Loudon,  you're  entirely  wrong,"  he 
broke  in.  "That's  what  the  public  likes;  that's  the 
merit  of  the  thing,  the  literary  value.  It's  to  call  up  the 
scene  before  them ;  it's  to  enable  the  humblest  citizen 
to  enjoy  that  afternoon  the  same  as  I  did.  Think  what 
it  would  have  been  to  me  when  I  was  tramping  around 
with  my  tin-types  to  find  a  column  and  a  half  of  real, 
cultured  conversation — an  artist,  in  his  studio  abroad, 
talking  of  his  art  —  and  to  know  how  he  looked  as  he 
did  it,  and  what  the  room  was  like,  and  what  he  had 
for  breakfast;  and  to  tell  myself,  eating  tinned  beans 
beside  a  creek,  that  if  all  went  well,  the  same  sort  of 
thing  would,  sooner  or  later,  happen  to  myself:  why, 
Loudon,  it  would  have  been  like  a  peephole  into  hea- 
ven ! " 

"Well,  if  it  gives  so  much  pleasure,"  I  admitted, 
"  the  sufferers  shouldn't  complain.  Only  give  the  other 
fellows  a  turn." 

The  end  of  the  matter  was  to  bring  myself  and  the 

59 


THE  WRECKER 

journalist  in  a  more  close  relation.  If  I  know  anything 
at  all  of  human  nature  —  and  the  if'xs  no  mere  figure  of 
speech,  but  stands  for  honest  doubt  —  no  series  of  bene- 
fits conferred,  or  even  dangers  shared,  would  have  so 
rapidly  confirmed  our  friendship  as  this  quarrel  avoided, 
this  fundamental  difference  of  taste  and  training  accepted 
and  condoned. 


60 


CHAPTER  IV 

m  WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES   OF  FORTUNE 

Whether  it  came  from  my  training  and  repeated 
bankruptcy  at  the  commercial  college,  or  by  direct  in- 
heritance from  old  Loudon,  the  Edinburgh  mason,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  about  the  fact  that  I  was  thrifty.  Look- 
ing myself  impartially  over,  I  believe  that  is  my  only 
manly  virtue.  During  my  first  two  years  in  Paris  I  not 
only  made  it  a  point  to  keep  well  inside  of  my  allow- 
ance, but  accumulated  considerable  savings  in  the  bank. 
You  will  say,  with  my  masquerade  of  living  as  a  penni- 
less student,  it  must  have  been  easy  to  do  so:  I  should 
have  had  no  difficulty,  however,  in  doing  the  reverse. 
Indeed,  it  is  wonderful  I  did  not;  and  early  in  the  third 
year,  or  soon  after  I  had  known  Pinkerton,  a  singular 
incident  proved  it  to  have  been  equally  wise.  Quarter- 
day  came,  and  brought  no  allowance.  A  letter  of  re- 
monstrance was  dispatched,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my 
experience,  remained  unanswered.  A  cablegram  was 
more  effectual;  for  it  brought  me  at  least  a  promise  of 
attention.  ' '  Will  write  at  once, "  my  father  telegraphed ; 
but  I  waited  long  for  his  letter.  I  was  puzzled,  angry, 
and  alarmed ;  but  thanks  to  my  previous  thrift,  I  cannot 
say  that  I  was  ever  practically  embarrassed.  The  em- 
barrassment, the  distress,  the  agony,  were  all  for  my 

61 


THE  WRECKER 

unhappy  father  at  home  in  Muskegon,  struggling  for 
life  and  fortune  against  untoward  chances,  returning  at 
night  from  a  day  of  ill-starred  shifts  and  ventures,  to 
read  and  perhaps  to  weep  over  that  last  harsh  letter  from 
his  only  child,  to  which  he  lacked  the  courage  to  reply. 

Nearly  three  months  after  time,  and  when  my  econo- 
mies were  beginning  to  run  low,  I  received  at  last  a 
letter  with  the  customary  bills  of  exchange. 

11  My  dearest  boy,"  it  ran,  "  I  believe,  in  the  press  of 
anxious  business,  your  letters  and  even  your  allowance 
have  been  somewhile  neglected.  You  must  try  to  for- 
give your  poor  old  dad,  for  he  has  had  a  trying  time; 
and  now  when  it  is  over,  the  doctor  wants  me  to  take 
my  shotgun  and  go  to  the  Adirondacks  for  a  change. 
You  must  not  fancy  I  am  sick,  only  over-driven  and 
under  the  weather.  Many  of  our  foremost  operators 
have  gone  down:  John  T.  M'Brady  skipped  to  Canada 
with  a  trunkful  of  boodle;  Billy  Sandwith,  Charlie 
Downs,  Joe  Kaiser,  and  many  others  of  our  leading  men 
in  this  city  bit  the  dust.  But  Big-Head  Dodd  has  again 
weathered  the  blizzard,  and  I  think  I  have  fixed  things 
so  that  we  may  be  richer  than  ever  before  autumn. 

"Now  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear,  what  I  propose.  You 
say  you  are  well  advanced  with  your  first  statue ;  start 
in  manfully  and  finish  it,  and  if  your  teacher — I  can 
never  remember  how  to  spell  his  name  —  will  send  me 
a  certificate  that  it  is  up  to  market  standard,  you  shall 
have  ten  thousand  dollars  to  do  what  you  like  with, 
either  at  home  or  in  Paris.  1  suggest,  since  you  say  the 
facilities  for  work  are  so  much  greater  in  that  city,  you 
would  do  well  to  buy  or  build  a  little  home;  and  the 
first  thing  you  know,  your  dad  will  be  dropping  in  for 

62 


IN   WHICH    I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

a  luncheon.  Indeed,  I  would  come  now,  for  I  am  be- 
ginning to  grow  old,  and  I  long  to  see  my  dear  boy ;  but 
there  are  still  some  operations  that  want  watching  and 
nursing.  Tell  your  friend,  Mr.  Pinkerton,  that  I  read 
his  letters  every  week;  and  though  I  have  looked  in 
vain  lately  for  my  Loudon's  name,  still  I  learn  something 
of  the  life  he  is  leading  in  that  strange,  old  world,  de- 
picted by  an  able  pen." 

Here  was  a  letter  that  no  young  man  could  possibly 
digest  in  solitude.  It  marked  one  of  those  junctures 
when  the  confidant  is  necessary;  and  the  confidant  se- 
lected was  none  other  than  Jim  Pinkerton.  My  father's 
message  may  have  had  an  influence  in  this  decision; 
but  I  scarce  suppose  so,  for  the  intimacy  was  already 
far  advanced.  I  had  a  genuine  and  lively  taste  for  my 
compatriot;  I  laughed  at,  I  scolded,  and  I  loved  him. 
He,  upon  his  side,  paid  me  a  kind  of  doglike  service  of 
admiration,  gazing  at  me  from  afar  off  as  at  one  who 
had  liberally  enjoyed  those  "advantages"  which  he  en- 
vied for  himself.  He  followed  at  heel;  his  laugh  was 
ready  chorus;  our  friends  gave  him  the  nickname  of 
"The  Henchman."  It  was  in  this  insidious  form  that 
servitude  approached  me. 

Pinkerton  and  I  read  and  re-read  the  famous  news: 
he,  I  can  swear,  with  an  enjoyment  as  unalloyed  and 
far  more  vocal  than  my  own.  The  statue  was  nearly 
done:  a  few  days'  work  sufficed  to  prepare  it  for  exhi- 
bition; the  master  was  approached;  he  gave  his  con- 
sent; and  one  cloudless  morning  of  May  beheld  us 
gathered  in  my  studio  for  the  hour  of  trial.  The  master 
wore  his  many-hued  rosette;  he  came  attended  by  two 
of  my  French  fellow-pupils  —  friends  of  mine  and  both 


THE  WRECKER 

considerable  sculptors  in  Paris  at  this  hour.  "  Corporal 
John  "  (as  we  used  to  call  him),  breaking  for  once  those 
habits  of  study  and  reserve  which  have  since  carried 
him  so  high  in  the  opinion  of  the  world,  had  left  his 
easel  of  a  morning  to  countenance  a  fellow-countryman 
in  some  suspense.  My  dear  old  Romney  was  there  by 
particular  request;  for  who  that  knew  him  would  think 
a  pleasure  quite  complete  unless  he  shared  it,  or  not 
support  a  mortification  more  easily  if  he  were  present 
to  console  ?  The  party  was  completed  by  John  Myner, 
the  Englishman ;  by  the  brothers  Stennis,  —  Stennis-aine 
and  Stennis-frere,  as  they  used  to  figure  on  their  ac- 
counts at  Barbizon  —  a  pair  of  hare-brained  Scots ;  and 
by  the  inevitable  Jim,  as  white  as  a  sheet  and  bedewed 
with  the  sweat  of  anxiety. 

I  suppose  I  was  little  better  myself  when  I  unveiled 
the  Genius  of  Muskegon.  The  master  walked  about  it 
seriously;  then  he  smiled. 

"It  is  already  not  so  bad,"  said  he,  in  that  funny 
English  of  which  he  was  so  proud.  "No,  already  not 
so  bad." 

We  all  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief;  and  Corporal 
John  (as  the  most  considerable  junior  present)  explained 
to  him  it  was  intended  for  a  public  building,  a  kind  of 
prefecture 

"He!  Quoi}"  cried  he,  relapsing  into  French. 
"  Qu'est-ce  que  vous  me  chante^-ld  ?  O,  in  America," 
he  added,  on  further  information  being  hastily  fur- 
nished. "That  is  anozer  sing.  O  very  good,  very 
good." 

The  idea  of  the  required  certificate  had  to  be  intro- 
duced to  his  mind  in  the  light  of  a  pleasantry  —  the 

64 


IN   WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

fancy  of  a  nabob  little  more  advanced  than  the  red 
Indians  of  "Fennimore  Cooperr";  and  it  took  all  our 
talents  combined  to  conceive  a  form  of  words  that 
would  be  acceptable  on  both  sides.  One  was  found, 
however:  Corporal  John  engrossed  it  in  his  undecipher- 
able hand,  the  master  lent  it  the  sanction  of  his  name 
and  flourish,  I  slipped  it  into  an  envelope  along  with 
one  of  the  two  letters  I  had  ready  prepared  in  my  pocket, 
and  as  the  rest  of  us  moved  off  along  the  boulevard  to 
breakfast,  Pinkerton  was  detached  in  a  cab  and  duly 
committed  it  to  the  post. 

The  breakfast  was  ordered  at  Lavenue's,  where  no 
one  need  be  ashamed  to  entertain  even  the  master;  the 
table  was  laid  in  the  garden ;  I  had  chosen  the  bill  of 
fare  myself;  on  the  wine  question,  we  held  a  council  of 
war  with  the  most  fortunate  results;  and  the  talk,  as 
soon  as  the  master  laid  aside  his  painful  English,  became 
fast  and  furious.  There  were  a  few  interruptions,  in- 
deed, in  the  way  of  toasts.  The  master's  health  had  to 
be  drunk,  and  he  responded  in  a  little  well-turned 
speech,  full  of  neat  allusions  to  my  future  and  to  the 
United  States;  my  health  followed;  and  then  my  father's 
must  not  only  be  proposed  and  drunk,  but  a  full  report 
must  be  despatched  to  him  at  once  by  cablegram  —  an 
extravagance  which  was  almost  the  means  of  the  mas- 
ter's dissolution.  Choosing  Corporal  John  to  be  his 
confidant  (on  the  ground,  I  presume,  that  he  was  al- 
ready too  good  an  artist  to  be  any  longer  an  American 
except  in  name)  he  summed  up  his  amazement  in  one 
oft-repeated  formula  —  "  C'est  barbare  !  ' '  Apart  from 
these  genial  formalities,  we  talked,  talked  of  art,  and 
talked  of  it  as  only  artists  can.     Here  in  the  South  Seas 

65 


THE  WRECKER 

we  talk  schooners  most  of  the  time;  in  the  Quarter 
we  talked  art  with  the  like  unflagging  interest,  and  per- 
haps as  much  result. 

Before  very  long,  the  master  went  away;  Corporal 
John  (who  was  already  a  sort  of  young  master)  followed 
on  his  heels;  and  the  rank  and  file  were  naturally  re- 
lieved by  their  departure.  We  were  now  among  equals ; 
the  bottle  passed,  the  conversation  sped.  I  think  I  can 
still  hear  the  Stennis  brothers  pour  forth  their  copious 
tirades;  Dijon,  my  portly  French  fellow-student,  drop 
witticisms  well-conditioned  like  himself;  and  another 
(who  was  weak  in  foreign  languages)  dash  hotly  into 
the  current  of  talk  with  some  "Je  trove  que  pore  oon 
sontimong  de  delicacy,  Corot  .  .  .  /'or  some  "Pour 
mot  Corot  est  le  plou  .  .  .  ;"  and  then,  his  little  raft 
of  French  foundering  at  once,  scramble  silently  to  shore 
again.  He  at  least  could  understand ;  but  to  Pinkerton, 
I  think  the  noise,  the  wine,  the  sun,  the  shadows  of 
the  leaves,  and  the  esoteric  glory  of  being  seated  at  a 
foreign  festival,  made  up  the  whole  available  means  of 
entertainment. 

We  sat  down  about  half  past  eleven ;  I  suppose  it  was 
two  when,  some  point  arising  and  some  particular  pic- 
ture being  instanced,  an  adjournment  to  the  Louvre  was 
proposed.  I  paid  the  score,  and  in  a  moment  we  were 
trooping  down  the  Rue  de  Renne.  It  was  smoking  hot ; 
Paris  glittered  with  that  superficial  brilliancy  which  is 
so  agreeable  to  the  man  in  high  spirits,  and  in  moods  of 
dejection  so  depressing;  the  wine  sang  in  my  ears,  it 
danced  and  brightened  in  my  eyes.  The  pictures  that 
we  saw  that  afternoon,  as  we  sped  briskly  and  loqua- 
ciously through  the  immortal  galleries,  appear  to  me, 

66 


IN   WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE  EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

upon  a  retrospect,  the  loveliest  of  all;  the  comments  we 
exchanged  to  have  touched  the  highest  mark  of  criti- 
cism, grave  or  gay. 

It  was  only  when  we  issued  again  from  the  museum 
that  a  difference  of  race  broke  up  the  party.  Dijon  pro- 
posed an  adjournment  to  a  cafe,  there  to  finish  the  after- 
noon on  beer;  the  elder  Stennis,  revolted  at  the  thought, 
moved  for  the  country,  a  forest  if  possible,  and  a  long 
walk.  At  once  the  English  speakers  rallied  to  the  name 
of  any  exercise;  even  to  me,  who  have  been  often 
twitted  with  my  sedentary  habits,  the  thought  of  coun- 
try air  and  stillness  proved  invincibly  attractive.  It  ap- 
peared, upon  investigation,  we  had  just  time  to  hail  a 
cab  and  catch  one  of  the  fast  trains  for  Fontainebleau. 
Beyond  the  clothes  we  stood  in,  all  were  destitute  of 
what  is  called  (with  dainty  vagueness)  personal  effects ; 
and  it  was  earnestly  mooted,  on  the  other  side,  whether 
we  had  not  time  to  call  upon  the  way  and  pack  a  satchel  ? 
But  the  Stennis  boys  exclaimed  upon  our  effeminacy. 
They  had  come  from  London,  it  appeared,  a  week  be- 
fore with  nothing  but  greatcoats  and  tooth-brushes. 
No  baggage — there  was  the  secret  of  existence.  It  was 
expensive,  to  be  sure ;  for  every  time  you  had  to  comb 
your  hair,  a  barber  must  be  paid,  and  every  time  you 
changed  your  linen,  one  shirt  must  be  bought  and 
another  thrown  away ;  but  anything  was  better  (argued 
these  young  gentlemen)  than  to  be  the  slaves  of  haver- 
sacks. "A  fellow  has  to  get  rid  gradually  of  all  ma- 
terial attachments;  that  was  manhood"  (said  they); 
"and  as  long  as  you  were  bound  down  to  anything, — 
house,  umbrella,  or  portmanteau, — you  were  still  teth- 
ered by  the  umbilical  cord."     Something  engaging  in 

67 


THE  WRECKER 

this  theory  carried  the  most  of  us  away.  The  two 
Frenchmen,  indeed,  retired,  scoffing,  to  their  bock ;  and 
Romney,  being  too  poor  to  join  the  excursion  on  his 
own  resources  and  too  proud  to  borrow,  melted  unob- 
trusively away.  Meanwhile  the  remainder  of  the  com- 
pany crowded  the  benches  of  a  cab;  the  horse  was 
urged  (as  horses  have  to  be)  by  an  appeal  to  the  pocket 
of  the  driver;  the  train  caught  by  the  inside  of  a  minute ; 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  and  a  half  we  were  breathing 
deep  of  the  sweet  air  of  the  forest  and  stretching  our 
legs  up  the  hill  from  Fontainetleau  octroi,  bound  for 
Barbizon.  That  the  leading  members  of  our  party  cov- 
ered the  distance  in  fifty-one  minutes  and  a  half  is  (I  be- 
lieve) one  of  the  historic  landmarks  of  the  colony;  but 
you  will  scarce  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  was  somewhat 
in  the  rear.  Myner,  a  comparatively  philosophic  Briton, 
kept  me  company  in  my  deliberate  advance;  the  glory 
of  the  sun's  going  down,  the  fall  of  the  long  shadows, 
the  inimitable  scent  and  the  inspiration  of  the  woods, 
attuned  me  more  and  more  to  walk  in  a  silence  which 
progressively  infected  my  companion ;  and  I  remember 
that,  when  at  last  he  spoke,  I  was  startled  from  a  deep 
abstraction. 

"  Your  father  seems  to  be  a  pretty  good  kind  of  a 
father,"  said  he.  "Why  don't  he  come  to  see  you?"  I 
was  ready  with  some  dozen  of  reasons,  and  had  more 
in  stock ;  but  Myner,  with  that  shrewdness  which  made 
him  feared  and  admired,  suddenly  fixed  me  with  his 
eyeglass,  and  asked,  "Ever  press  him?" 

The  blood  came  in  my  face.  No ;  I  had  never  pressed 
him ;  I  had  never  even  encouraged  him  to  come.  I  was 
proud  of  him ;  proud  of  his  handsome  looks,  of  his  kind, 

68 


IN  WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

gentle  ways,  of  that  bright  face  he  could  show  when 
others  were  happy;  proud,  too  (meanly  proud,  if  you 
like)  of  his  great  wealth  and  startling  liberalities.  And 
yet  he  would  have  been  in  the  way  of  my  Paris  life,  of 
much  of  which  he  would  have  disapproved.  I  had 
feared  to  expose  to  criticism  his  innocent  remarks  on 
art ;  I  had  told  myself,  I  had  even  partly  believed,  he  did 
not  want  to  come;  I  had  been  (and  still  am)  convinced 
that  he  was  sure  to  be  unhappy  out  of  Muskegon ;  in 
short,  I  had  a  thousand  reasons,  good  and  bad,  not  all 
of  which  could  alter  one  iota  of  the  fact  that  I  knew  he 
only  waited  for  my  invitation. 

"Thank  you,  Myner,"  said  I;  "you're  a  much  better 
fellow  than  ever  I  supposed.     I'll  write  to-night." 

"O,  you're  a  pretty  decent  sort  yourself,"  returned 
Myner,  with  more  than  his  usual  flippancy  of  manner, 
but  (as  I  was  gratefully  aware)  not  a  trace  of  his  occa- 
sional irony  of  meaning. 

Well,  these  were  brave  days,  on  which  I  could  dwell 
forever.  Brave,  too,  were  those  that  followed,  when 
Pinkerton  and  I  walked  Paris  and  the  suburbs,  viewing 
and  pricing  houses  for  my  new  establishment,  or  cov- 
ered ourselves  with  dust  and  returned  laden  with  Chi- 
nese gods  and  brass  warming-pans  from  the  dealers  in 
antiquities.  I  found  Pinkerton  well  up  in  the  situation 
of  these  establishments  as  well  as  in  the  current  prices, 
and  with  quite  a  smattering  of  critical  judgment;  it 
turned  out  he  was  investing  capital  in  pictures  and 
curiosities  for  the  States,  and  the  superficial  thorough- 
ness of  the  creature  appeared  in  the  fact  that,  although 
he  would  never  be  a  connoisseur,  he  was  already  some- 
thing of  an  expert.     The  things  themselves  left  him  as 

69 


THE  WRECKER 

near  as  may  be  cold ;  but  he  had  a  joy  of  his  own  in 
understanding  how  to  buy  and  sell  them. 

In  such  engagements  the  time  passed  until  I  might 
very  well  expect  an  answer  from  my  father.  Two  mails 
followed  each  other,  and  brought  nothing.  By  the  third 
I  received  a  long  and  almost  incoherent  letter  of  re- 
morse, encouragement,  consolation,  and  despair.  From 
this  pitiful  document,  which  (with  a  movement  of  piety) 
I  burned  as  soon  as  I  had  read  it,  I  gathered  that  the 
bubble  of  my  father's  wealth  was  burst,  that  he  was  now 
both  penniless  and  sick;  and  that  I,  so  far  from  expect- 
ing ten  thousand  dollars  to  throw  away  in  juvenile 
extravagance,  must  look  no  longer  for  the  quarterly 
remittances  on  which  I  lived.  My  case  was  hard 
enough ;  but  I  had  sense  enough  to  perceive,  and  de- 
cency enough  to  do  my  duty.  I  sold  my  curiosities,  or 
rather  I  sent  Pinkerton  to  sell  them;  and  he  had  pre- 
viously bought  and  now  disposed  of  them  so  wisely  that 
the  loss  was  trifling.  This,  with  what  remained  of  my 
last  allowance,  left  me  at  the  head  of  no  less  than  five 
thousand  francs.  Five  hundred  I  reserved  for  my  own 
immediate  necessities;  the  rest  I  mailed  inside  of  the 
week  to  my  father  at  Muskegon,  where  they  came  in 
time  to  pay  his  funeral  expenses. 

The  news  of  his  death  was  scarcely  a  surprise  and 
scarce  a  grief  to  me.  I  could  not  conceive  my  father  a 
poor  man.  He  had  led  too  long  a  life  of  thoughtless  and 
generous  profusion  to  endure  the  change;  and  though  I 
grieved  for  myself,  I  was  able  to  rejoice  that  my  father 
had  been  taken  from  the  battle.  I  grieved,  I  say,  for 
myself;  and  it  is  probable  there  were  at  the  same  date 
many  thousands  of  persons  grieving  with  less  cause.    I 

70 


IN   WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

had  lost  my  father;  I  had  lost  the  allowance;  my  whole 
fortune  (including  what  had  been  returned  from  Muske- 
gon) scarce  amounted  to  a  thousand  francs;  and  to 
crown  my  sorrows,  the  statuary  contract  had  changed 
hands.  The  new  contracter  had  a  son  of  his  own,  or  else 
a  nephew;  and  it  was  signified  to  me,  with  business-like 
plainness,  that  I  must  find  another  market  for  my  pigs. 
In  the  meanwhile  I  had  given  up  my  room,  and  slept  on 
a  truckle-bed  in  a  corner  of  the  studio,  where  as  I  read 
myself  to  sleep  at  night,  and  when  I  awoke  in  the  morn- 
ing, that  now  useless  bulk,  the  Genius  of  Muskegon,  was 
ever  present  to  my  eyes.  Poor  stone  lady!  born  to  be 
enthroned  under  the  gilded,  echoing  dome  of  the  new 
capitol,  whither  was  she  now  to  drift  ?  for  what  base 
purposes  be  ultimately  broken  up,  like  an  unseaworthy 
ship  ?  and  what  should  befall  her  ill-starred  artificer, 
standing,  with  his  thousand  francs,  on  the  threshold  of 
a  life  so  hard  as  that  of  the  unbefriended  sculptor  ? 

It  was  a  subject  often  and  earnestly  debated  by  myself 
and  Pinkerton.  In  his  opinion,  I  should  instantly  dis- 
card my  profession.  "Just  drop  it,  here  and  now,"  he 
would  say.  ' '  Come  back  home  with  me,  and  let's  throw 
our  whole  soul  into  business.  I  have  the  capital;  you 
bring  the  culture.  Dodd  &  Pinkerton  —  I  never  saw  a 
better  name  for  an  advertisement;  and  you  can't  think, 
Loudon,  how  much  depends  upon  a  name."  On  my 
side,  I  would  admit  that  a  sculptor  should  possess  one 
of  three  things  —  capital,  influence,  or  an  energy  only 
to  be  qualified  as  hellish.  The  two  first  I  had  now  lost; 
to  the  third  I  never  had  the  smallest  claim ;  and  yet  I 
wanted  the  cowardice  (or  perhaps  it  was  the  courage) 
to  turn  my  back  on  my  career  without  a  fight.     I  told 

71 


THE  WRECKER 

him,  besides,  that  however  poor  my  chances  were  in 
sculpture,  I  was  convinced  they  were  yet  worse  in 
business,  for  which  I  equally  lacked  taste  and  aptitude. 
But  upon  this  head,  he  was  my  father  over  again ;  as- 
sured me  that  I  spoke  in  ignorance ;  that  any  intelligent 
and  cultured  person  was  bound  to  succeed ;  that  I  must, 
besides,  have  inherited  some  of  my  father's  fitness ;  and, 
at  any  rate,  that  I  had  been  regularly  trained  for  that 
career  in  the  commercial  college. 

"Pinkerton,"  I  said,  "  can't  you  understand  that,  as 
long  as  I  was  there,  I  never  took  the  smallest  interest 
in  any  stricken  thing  ?  The  whole  affair  was  poison  to 
me. 

" It's  not  possible,"  he  would  cry;  "it  can't  be;  you 
couldn't  live  in  the  midst  of  it  and  not  feel  the  charm ; 
with  all  your  poetry  of  soul,  you  couldn't  help !  Lou- 
don," he  would  go  on,  "you  drive  me  crazy.  You  ex- 
pect a  man  to  be  all  broken  up  about  the  sunset,  and 
not  to  care  a  dime  for  a  place  where  fortunes  are  fought 
for  and  made  and  lost  all  day;  or  for  a  career  that  con- 
sists in  studying  up  life  till  you  have  it  at  your  finger- 
ends,  spying  out  every  cranny  where  you  can  get  your 
hand  in  and  a  dollar  out,  and  standing  there  in  the 
midst  —  one  foot  on  bankruptcy,  the  other  on  a  bor- 
rowed dollar,  and  the  whole  thing  spinning  round  you 
like  a  mill  —  raking  in  the  stamps,  in  spite  of  fate  and 
fortune." 

To  this  romance  of  dickering  I  would  reply  with  the 
romance  (which  is  also  the  virtue)  of  art:  reminding 
him  of  those  examples  of  constancy  through  many 
tribulations,  with  which  the  role  of  Apollo  is  illustrated ; 
from  the  case  of  Millet,  to  those  of  many  of  our  friends 

72 


IN   WHICH    I   EXPERIENCE   EXTREMES   OF   FORTUNE 

and  comrades,  who  had  chosen  this  agreeable  mountain 
path  through  life,  and  were  now  bravely  clambering 
among  rocks  and  brambles,  penniless  and  hopeful. 

"You  will  never  understand  it,  Pinkerton,"  I  would 
say.  "You  look  to  the  result,  you  want  to  see  some 
profit  of  your  endeavours :  that  is  why  you  could  never 
learn  to  paint,  if  you  lived  to  be  Methusalem.  The 
result  is  always  a  fizzle :  the  eyes  of  the  artist  are  turned 
in ;  he  lives  for  a  frame  of  mind.  Look  at  Romney, 
now.  There  is  the  nature  of  the  artist.  He  hasn't 
a  cent;  and  if  you  offered  him  to-morrow  the  com- 
mand of  an  army,  or  the  presidentship  of  the  United 
States,  he  wouldn't  take  it,  and  you  know  he 
wouldn't." 

"I  suppose  not,"  Pinkerton  would  cry,  scouring  his 
hair  with  both  his  hands ;  "and  I  can't  see  why ;  I  can't 
see  what  in  fits  he  would  be  after,  not  to ;  I  don't  seem 
to  rise  to  these  views.  Of  course,  it's  the  fault  of  not 
having  had  advantages  in  early  life;  but,  Loudon,  I'm 
so  miserably  low,  that  it  seems  to  me  silly.  The  fact 
is,"  he  might  add  with  a  smile,  "I  don't  seem  to  have 
the  least  use  for  a  frame  of  mind  without  square  meals ; 
and  you  can't  get  it  out  of  my  head  that  it's  a  man's 
duty  to  die  rich,  if  he  can." 

"  What  for  ?  "  I  asked  him  once. 

"O,  I  don't  know,"  he  replied.  "Why  in  snakes 
should  anybody  want  to  be  a  sculptor,  if  you  come  to 
that  ?  I  would  love  to  sculp  myself.  But  what  I  can't 
see  is  why  you  should  want  to  do  nothing  else.  It 
seems  to  argue  a  poverty  of  nature." 

Whether  or  not  he  ever  came  to  understand  me — 
and  I  have  been  so  tossed  about  since  then  that  I  am 

73 


THE  WRECKER 

not  very  sure  I  understand  myself — he  soon  perceived 
that  I  was  perfectly  in  earnest;  and  after  about  ten  days 
of  argument,  suddenly  dropped  the  subject,  and  an- 
nounced that  he  was  wasting  capital,  and  must  go  home 
at  once.  No  doubt  he  should  have  gone  long  before, 
and  had  already  lingered  over  his  intended  time  for  the 
sake  of  our  companionship  and  my  misfortune ;  but  man 
is  so  unjustly  minded  that  the  very  fact,  which  ought 
to  have  disarmed,  only  embittered  my  vexation.  I  re- 
sented his  departure  in  the  light  of  a  desertion ;  I  would 
not  say,  but  doubtless  I  betrayed  it;  and  something 
hang-dog  in  the  man's  face  and  bearing  led  me  to  be- 
lieve he  was  himself  remorseful.  It  is  certain  at  least 
that,  during  the  time  of  his  preparations,  we  drew  sen- 
sibly apart — a  circumstance  that  I  recall  with  shame. 
On  the  last  day,  he  had  me  to  dinner  at  a  restaurant 
which  he  knew  I  had  formerly  frequented,  and  had  only 
forsworn  of  late  from  considerations  of  economy.  He 
seemed  ill  at  ease ;  I  was  myself  both  sorry  and  sulky ; 
and  the  meal  passed  with  little  conversation. 

"Now,  Loudon,"  said  he,  with  a  visible  effort,  after 
the  coffee  was  come  and  our  pipes  lighted,  "you  can 
never  understand  the  gratitude  and  loyalty  I  bear  you. 
You  don't  know  what  a  boon  it  is  to  be  taken  up  by  a 
man  that  stands  on  the  pinnacle  of  civilisation;  you 
can't  think  how  it's  refined  and  purified  me,  how  it's 
appealed  to  my  spiritual  nature;  and  I  want  to  tell  you 
that  I  would  die  at  your  door  like  a  dog." 

I  don't  know  what  answer  I  tried  to  make,  but  he 
cut  me  short. 

"Let  me  say  it  out!  "  he  cried.  "I  revere  you  for 
your  whole-souled  devotion  to  art;  I  can't  rise  to  it,  but 

74 


IN   WHICH   I   EXPERIENCE  EXTREMES  OF   FORTUNE 

there's  a  strain  of  poetry  in  my  nature,  Loudon,  that  re- 
sponds to  it.  I  want  you  to  carry  it  out,  and  I  mean  to 
help  you." 

"  Pinkerton,  what  nonsense  is  this?"  I  interrupted. 

"Now  don't  get  mad,  Loudon;  this  is  a  plain  piece 
of  business,"  said  he;  "it's  done  every  day;  it's  even 
typical.  How  are  all  those  fellows  over  here  in  Paris, 
Henderson,  Sumner,  Long? — it's  all  the  same  story:  a 
young  man  just  plum  full  of  artistic  genius  on  the  one 
side,  a  man  of  business  on  the  other  who  doesn't  know 
what  to  do  with  his  dollars " 

"  But,  you  fool,  you're  as  poor  as  a  rat,"  I  cried. 

"You  wait  till  I  get  my  irons  in  the  fire!"  returned 
Pinkerton.  "I'm  bound  to  be  rich;  and  I  tell  you  I 
mean  to  have  some  of  the  fun  as  I  go  along.  Here's 
your  first  allowance ;  take  it  at  the  hand  of  a  friend ;  I'm 
one  that  holds  friendship  sacred  as  you  do  yourself.  It's 
only  a  hundred  francs;  you'll  get  the  same  every  month, 
and  as  soon  as  my  business  begins  to  expand  we'll  in- 
crease it  to  something  fitting.  And  so  far  from  it  being 
a  favour,  just  let  me  handle  your  statuary  for  the  Ameri- 
can market,  and  I'll  call  it  one  of  the  smartest  strokes 
of  business  in  my  life." 

It  took  me  a  long  time,  and  it  had  cost  us  both  much 
grateful  and  painful  emotion,  before  I  had  finally  man- 
aged to  refuse  his  offer  and  compounded  for  a  bottle  of 
particular  wine.  He  dropped  the  subject  at  last  sud- 
denly with  a  "Never  mind;  that's  all  done  with,"  nor 
did  he  again  refer  to  the  subject,  though  we  passed 
together  the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  and  I  accompanied 
him,  on  his  departure,  to  the  doors  of  the  waiting-room 
at  St.  Lazare.     I  felt  myself  strangely  alone;   a  voice 

75 


THE  WRECKER 

told  me  that  I  had  rejected  both  the  counsels  of  wisdom 
and  the  helping  hand  of  friendship;  and  as  I  passed 
through  the  great  bright  city  on  my  homeward  way,  I 
measured  it  for  the  first  time  with  the  eye  of  an  ad- 
versary. 


76 


CHAPTER  V 

IN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN   PARIS 

In  no  part  of  the  world  is  starvation  an  agreeable 
business ;  but  I  believe  it  is  admitted  there  is  no  worse 
place  to  starve  in  than  this  city  of  Paris.  The  appear- 
ances of  life  are  there  so  especially  gay,  it  is  so  much  a 
magnified  beer-garden,  the  houses  are  so  ornate,  the  the- 
atres so  numerous,  the  very  pace  of  the  vehicles  is  so 
brisk,  that  a  man  in  any  deep  concern  of  mind  or  pain 
of  body  is  constantly  driven  in  upon  himself.  In  his 
own  eyes,  he  seems  the  one  serious  creature  moving  in 
a  world  of  horrible  unreality ;  voluble  people  issuing 
from  a  cafe,  the  queue  at  theatre  doors,  Sunday  cabfuls 
of  second-rate  pleasure-seekers,  the  bedizened  ladies  of 
the  pavement,  the  show  in  the  jewellers'  windows  — 
all  the  familiar  sights  contributing  to  flout  his  own  un- 
happiness,  want,  and  isolation.  At  the  same  time,  if 
he  be  at  all  after  my  pattern,  he  is  perhaps  supported 
by  a  childish  satisfaction :  this  is  life  at  last,  he  may  tell 
himself;  this  is  the  real  thing;  the  bladders  on  which  I 
was  set  swimming  are  now  empty,  my  own  weight 
depends  upon  the  ocean ;  by  my  own  exertions  I  must 
perish  or  succeed;  and  I  am  now  enduring  in  the  vivid 
fact,  what  I  so  much  delighted  to  read  of  in  the  case  of 
Lousteau  or  Lucien,  Rodolphe  or  Schaunard. 

77 


THE  WRECKER 

Of  the  steps  of  my  misery,  I  cannot  tell  at  length. 
In  ordinary  times  what  were  politically  called  "loans" 
(although  they  were  never  meant  to  be  repaid)  were 
matters  of  constant  course  among  the  students,  and 
many  a  man  has  partly  lived  on  them  for  years.  But 
my  misfortune  befell  me  at  an  awkward  juncture.  Many 
of  my  friends  were  gone;  others  were  themselves  in  a 
precarious  situation.  Romney  (for  instance)  was  reduced 
to  tramping  Paris  in  a  pair  of  country  sabots,  his  only 
suit  of  clothes  so  imperfect  (in  spite  of  cunningly  adjusted 
pins)  that  the  authorities  at  the  Luxembourg  suggested 
his  withdrawal  from  the  gallery.  Dijon,  too,  was  on  a 
lee  shore,  designing  clocks  and  gas-brackets  for  a  dealer; 
and  the  most  he  could  do  was  to  offer  me  a  corner  of 
his  studio  where  I  might  work.  My  own  studio  (it  will 
be  gathered)  I  had  by  that  time  lost;  and  in  the  course 
of  my  expulsion  the  Genius  of  Muskegon  was  finally 
separated  from  her  author.  To  continue  to  possess  a 
full-sized  statue,  a  man  must  have  a  studio,  a  gallery,  or 
at  least  the  freedom  of  a  back  garden.  He  cannot  carry 
it  about  with  him,  like  a  satchel,  in  the  bottom  of  a  cab, 
nor  can  he  cohabit  in  a  garret,  ten  by  fifteen,  with  so 
momentous  a  companion.  It  was  my  first  idea  to  leave 
her  behind  at  my  departure.  There,  in  her  birthplace, 
she  might  lend  an  inspiration,  methought,  to  my  suc- 
cessor. But  the  proprietor,  with  whom  I  had  unhappily 
quarrelled,  seized  the  occasion  to  be  disagreeable,  and 
called  upon  me  to  remove  my  property.  For  a  man  in 
such  straits  as  I  now  found  myself,  the  hire  of  a  lorry  was 
a  consideration;  and  yet  even  that  I  could  have  faced, 
if  I  had  had  anywhere  to  drive  to  after  it  was  hired. 
Hysterical  laughter  seized  upon  me,  as  I  beheld  (in 

78 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN    PARIS 

imagination)  myself,  the  waggoner,  and  the  Genius  of 
Muskegon,  standing  in  the  public  view  of  Paris,  without 
the  shadow  of  a  destination ;  perhaps  driving  at  last  to 
the  nearest  rubbish-heap,  and  dumping  there,  among  the 
ordures  of  a  city,  the  beloved  child  of  my  invention. 
From  these  extremities  I  was  relieved  by  a  seasonable 
offer;  and  I  parted  from  the  Genius  of  Muskegon  for 
thirty  francs.  Where  she  now  stands,  under  what  name 
she  is  admired  or  criticised,  history  does  not  inform  us ; 
but  I  like  to  think  she  may  adorn  the  shrubbery  of  some 
suburban  tea-garden,  where  holiday  shop-girls  hang  their 
hats  upon  the  mother,  and  their  swains  (by  way  of  an 
approach  of  gallantry)  identify  the  winged  infant  with 
the  god  of  love. 

In  a  certain  cabman's  eating-house  on  the  outer  boule- 
vard I  got  credit  for  my  midday  meal.  Supper  I  was 
supposed  not  to  require,  sitting  down  nightly  to  the  del- 
icate table  of  some  rich  acquaintances.  This  arrange- 
ment was  extremely  ill-considered.  My  fable,  credible 
enough  at  first,  and  so  long  as  my  clothes  were  in  good 
order,  must  have  seemed  worse  than  doubtful  after  my 
coat  became  frayed  about  the  edges,  and  my  boots  began 
to  squelch  and  pipe  along  the  restaurant  floors.  The 
allowance  of  one  meal  a  day  besides,  though  suitable 
enough  to  the  state  of  my  finances,  agreed  poorly  with 
my  stomach.  The  restaurant  was  a  place  I  had  often 
visited  experimentally,  to  taste  the  life  of  students  then 
more  unfortunate  than  myself;  and  I  had  never  in  those 
days  entered  it  without  disgust,  or  left  it  without  nausea. 
It  was  strange  to  find  myself  sitting  down  with  avidity, 
rising  up  with  satisfaction,  and  counting  the  hours  that 
divided  me  from  my  return  to  such  a  table.     But  hunger 

79 


THE  WRECKER 

is  a  great  magician ;  and  so  soon  as  I  had  spent  my  ready 
cash,  and  could  no  longer  fill  up  on  bowls  of  chocolate 
or  hunks  of  bread,  I  must  depend  entirely  on  that  cab- 
man's eating-house,  and  upon  certain  rare,  long-ex- 
pected, long-remembered  windfalls.  Dijon  (for  instance) 
might  get  paid  for  some  of  his  pot-boiling  work,  or  else 
an  old  friend  would  pass  through  Paris ;  and  then  I  would 
be  entertained  to  a  meal  after  my  own  soul,  and  contract 
a  Latin  Quarter  loan,  which  would  keep  me  in  tobacco 
and  my  morning  coffee  for  a  fortnight.  It  might  be 
thought  the  latter  would  appear  the  more  important.  It 
might  be  supposed  that  a  life,  led  so  near  the  confines 
of  actual  famine,  should  have  dulled  the  nicety  of  my 
palate.  On  the  contrary,  the  poorer  a  man's  diet,  the 
more  sharply  is  he  set  on  dainties.  The  last  of  my  ready 
cash,  about  thirty  francs,  was  deliberately  squandered  on 
a  single  dinner;  and  a  great  part  of  my  time  when  I  was 
alone  was  passed  upon  the  details  of  imaginary  feasts. 

One  gleam  of  hope  visited  me  —  an  order  for  a  bust 
from  a  rich  Southerner.  He  was  free-handed,  jolly  of 
speech,  merry  of  countenance;  kept  me  in  good  humour 
through  the  sittings,  and  when  they  were  over,  carried 
me  off  with  him  to  dinner  and  the  sights  of  Paris.  I  ate 
well ;  I  laid  on  flesh ;  by  all  accounts,  I  made  a  favour- 
able likeness  of  the  being,  and  I  confess  I  thought  my 
future  was  assured.  But  when  the  bust  was  done,  and 
I  had  dispatched  it  across  the  Atlantic,  I  could  never  so 
much  as  learn  of  its  arrival.  The  blow  felled  me;  I 
should  have  lain  down  and  tried  no  stroke  to  right  my- 
self, had  not  the  honour  of  my  country  been  involved. 
For  Dijon  improved  the  opportunity  in  the  European  style ;. 
informing  me  (for  the  first  time)  of  the  manners  of  Amer- 

80 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN    ON    MY   LUCK   IN    PARIS 

ica:  how  it  was  a  den  of  banditti  without  the  smallest 
rudiment  of  law  or  order,  and  debts  could  be  there  only 
collected  with  a  shotgun.  "The  whole  world  knows 
it,"  he  would  say;  "you  are  alone,  mon  petit  Loudon, 
you  are  alone  to  be  in  ignorance  of  these  facts.  The 
judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  fought  but  the  other  day 
with  stilettos  on  the  bench  at  Cincinnati.  You  should 
read  the  little  book  of  one  of  my  friends:  Le  Touriste 
dans  le  Far-West;  you  will  see  it  all  there  in  good 
French."  At  last,  incensed  by  days  of  such  discussion, 
I  undertook  to  prove  to  him  the  contrary,  and  put  the 
affair  in  the  hands  of  my  late  father's  lawyer.  From  him 
I  had  the  gratification  of  hearing,  after  a  due  interval, 
that  my  debtor  was  dead  of  the  yellow  fever  in  Key 
West,  and  had  left  his  affairs  in  some  confusion.  I 
suppress  his  name;  for  though  he  treated  me  with  cruel 
nonchalance,  it  is  probable  he  meant  to  deal  fairly  in  the 
end. 

Soon  after  this  a  shade  of  change  in  my  reception  at 
the  cabman's  eating-house  marked  the  beginning  of  a 
new  phase  in  my  distress.  The  first  day,  I  told  myself 
it  was  but  fancy;  the  next,  I  made  quite  sure  it  was 
a  fact;  the  third,  in  mere  panic  I  stayed  away,  and  went 
for  forty-eight  hours  fasting.  This  was  an  act  of  great 
unreason;  for  the  debtor  who  stays  away  is  but  the 
more  remarked,  and  the  boarder  who  misses  a  meal  is 
sure  to  be  accused  of  infidelity.  On  the  fourth  day, 
therefore,  I  returned,  inwardly  quaking.  The  proprietor 
looked  askance  upon  my  entrance;  the  waitresses  (who 
were  his  daughters)  neglected  my  wants  and  sniffed  at 
the  affected  joviality  of  my  salutations ;  last  and  most 
plain,  when  I  called  for  a  Suisse  (such  as  was  being 

81 


THE  WRECKER 

served  to  all  the  other  diners)  I  was  bluntly  told  there 
were  no  more.  It  was  obvious  I  was  near  the  end  of  my 
tether;  one  plank  divided  me  from  want,  and  now  I  felt 
it  tremble.  I  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning  took  my  way  to  Myner's  studio. 
It  was  a  step  I  had  long  meditated  and  long  refrained 
from;  for  I  was  scarce  intimate  with  the  Englishman; 
and  though  I  knew  him  to  possess  plenty  of  money, 
neither  his  manner  nor  his  reputation  were  the  least 
encouraging  to  beggars. 

I  found  him  at  work  on  a  picture,  which  I  was  able 
conscientiously  to  praise,  dressed  in  his  usual  tweeds, 
plain,  but  pretty  fresh,  and  standing  out  in  disagreeable 
contrast  to  my  own  withered  and  degraded  outfit.  As 
we  talked,  he  continued  to  shift  his  eyes  watchfully  be- 
tween his  handiwork  and  the  fat  model,  who  sat  at  the 
far  end  of  the  studio  in  a  state  of  nature,  with  one  arm 
gallantly  arched  above  her  head.  My  errand  would  have 
been  difficult  enough  under  the  best  of  circumstances: 
placed  between  Myner,  immersed  in  his  art,  and  the 
white,  fat,  naked  female  in  a  ridiculous  attitude,  I  found 
it  quite  impossible.  Again  and  again  I  attempted  to 
approach  the  point,  again  and  again  fell  back  on  com- 
mendations of  the  picture;  and  it  was  not  until  the 
model  had  enjoyed  an  interval  of  repose,  during  which 
she  took  the  conversation  in  her  own  hands  and  regaled 
us  (in  a  soft,  weak  voice)  with  details  as  to  her  husband's 
prosperity,  her  sister's  lamented  decline  from  the  paths 
of  virtue,  and  the  consequent  wrath  of  her  father,  a 
peasant  of  stern  principles,  in  the  vicinity  of  Chalons  on 
the  Marne ;  —  it  was  not,  I  say,  until  after  this  was  over, 
and  I  had  once  more  cleared  my  throat  for  the  attack, 

82 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN   PARIS 

and  once  more  dropped  aside  into  some  commonplace 
about  the  picture,  that  Myner  himself  brought  me  sud- 
denly and  vigorously  to  the  point. 

"You  didn't  come  here  to  talk  this  rot,"  said  he. 

1 '  No, "  I  replied  sullenly ;  ' '  I  came  to  borrow  money. " 

He  painted  awhile  in  silence. 

"I  don't  think  we  were  ever  very  intimate?"  he 
asked. 

" Thank  you,"  said  I.  "I  can  take  my  answer,"  and 
I  made  as  if  to  go,  rage  boiling  in  my  heart. 

"Of  course  you  can  go  if  you  like,"  said  Myner; 
"but  I  advise  you  to  stay  and  have  it  out." 

"What  more  is  there  to  say ? "  I  cried.  "  You  don't 
want  to  keep  me  here  for  a  needless  humiliation  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Dodd,  you  must  try  and  command  your 
temper,"  said  he.  "This  interview  is  of  your  own 
seeking,  and  not  mine;  if  you  suppose  it's  not  disa- 
greeable to  me,  you're  wrong;  and  if  you  think  I  will 
give  you  money  without  knowing  thoroughly  about 
your  prospects,  you  take  me  for  a  fool.  Besides,"  he 
added,  "if  you  come  to  look  at  it,  you've  got  over  the 
worst  of  it  by  now:  you  have  done  the  asking,  and 
you  have  every  reason  to  know  I  mean  to  refuse.  I 
hold  out  no  false  hopes,  but  it  may  be  worth  your  while 
to  let  me  judge." 

Thus  —  I  was  going  to  say  —  encouraged,  I  stumbled 
through  my  story;  told  him  I  had  credit  at  the  cab- 
man's eating-house,  but  began  to  think  it  was  drawing 
to  a  close ;  how  Dijon  lent  me  a  corner  of  his  studio, 
where  I  tried  to  model  ornaments,  figures  for  clocks, 
Time  with  the  scythe,  Leda  and  the  swan,  musketeers 
for  candlesticks,  and  other  kickshaws,  which  had  never 

S3 


THE   WRECKER 

(up  to  that  day)  been  honoured  with  the  least  approval. 

"And  your  room  ?"  asked  Myner. 

"O,  my  room  is  all  right,  I  think,"  said  I.  "She  is 
a  very  good  old  lady,  and  has  never  even  mentioned 
her  bill." 

"  Because  she  is  a  very  good  old  lady,  I  don't  see 
why  she  should  be  fined,"  observed  Myner. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  I  cried. 

"I  mean  this,"  said  he.  "The  French  give  a  great 
deal  of  credit  amongst  themselves ;  they  find  it  pays  on 
the  whole,  or  the  system  w^uld  hardly  be  continued; 
but  I  can't  see  where  we  come  in ;  I  can't  see  that  it's 
honest  of  us  Anglo-Saxons  to  profit  by  their  easy  ways, 
and  then  skip  over  the  channel  or  (as  you  Yankees  do) 
across  the  Atlantic." 

"  But  I'm  not  proposing  to  skip,"  I  objected. 

' '  Exactly, "  he  replied.  ' '  And  shouldn't  you  ?  There's 
the  problem.  You  seem  to  me  to  have  a  lack  of  sym- 
pathy for  the  proprietors  of  cabmen's  eating-houses.  By 
your  own  account  you're  not  getting  on :  the  longer  you 
stay,  it'll  only  be  the  more  out  of  the  pocket  of  the  dear 
old  lady  at  your  lodgings.  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll 
do:  if  you  consent  to  go,  I'll  pay  your  passage  to  New 
York,  and  your  railway  fare  and  expenses  to  Muskegon 
(if  I  have  the  name  right)  where  your  father  lived, 
where  he  must  have  left  friends,  and  where,  no  doubt, 
you'll  find  an  opening.  I  don't  seek  any  gratitude,  for 
of  course  you'll  think  me  a  beast;  but  I  do  ask  you  to 
pay  it  back  when  you  are  able.  At  any  rate,  that's  all 
I  can  do.  It  might  be  different  if  I  thought  you  a  ge- 
nius, Dodd;  but  I  don't,  and  I  advise  you  not  to." 

"I  think  that  was  uncalled  for,  at  least,"  said  I. 
84 


IN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN   PARIS 

"I  dare  say  it  was,"  he  returned,  with  the  same 
steadiness.  "It  seemed  to  me  pertinent;  and  besides, 
when  you  ask  me  for  money  upon  no  security,  you 
treat  me  with  the  liberty  of  a  friend,  and  it's  to  be  pre- 
sumed that  I  can  do  the  like.  But  the  point  is,  do  you 
accept  ?  " 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  I;  "I  have  another  string  to 
my  bow." 

"  All  right,"  says  Myner.     "  Be  sure  it's  honest." 

"  Honest  ?  honest  ?  "  I  cried.  "  What  do  you  mean 
by  calling  my  honesty  in  question  ?" 

"I  won't,  if  you  don't  like  it,"  he  replied.  "You 
seem  to  think  honesty  as  easy  as  Blind  Man's  Buff:  I 
don't.     It's  some  difference  of  definition." 

I  went  straight  from  this  irritating  interview,  during 
which  Myner  had  never  discontinued  painting,  to  the 
studio  of  my  old  master.  Only  one  card  remained  for 
me  to  play,  and  I  was  now  resolved  to  play  it :  I  must 
drop  the  gentleman  and  the  frock-coat,  and  approach 
art  in  the  workman's  tunic. 

"  Tiens,  this  little  Dodd ! "  cried  the  master;  and  then, 
as  his  eye  fell  on  my  dilapidated  clothing,  I  thought  I 
could  perceive  his  countenance  to  darken. 

I  made  my  plea  in  English ;  for  I  knew,  if  he  were 
vain  of  anything,  it  was  of  his  achievement  of  the  island 
tongue.  "Master,"  said  I,  "will  you  take  me  in  your 
studio  again  ?  but  this  time  as  a  workman." 

"  I  sought  yourfazer  was  immensely  reech,"  said  he. 

I  explained  to  him  that  I  was  now  an  orphan  and 
penniless. 

He  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  betterr  workmen  wait- 
ing at  my  door,"  said  he;  "far  betterr  workmen." 

85 


THE  WRECKER 

"You  used  to  think  something  of  my  work,  sir,"  I 
pleaded. 

"Somesing,  somesing  —  yes!"  he  cried;  "enough 
for  a  son  of  a  reech  man  —  not  enough  for  an  orphan. 
Besides,  I  sought  you  might  learn  to  be  an  artist;  I  did 
not  sink  you  might  learn  to  be  a  workman." 

On  a  certain  bench  on  the  outer  boulevard,  not  far 
from  the  tomb  of  Napoleon,  a  bench  shaded  at  that  date 
by  a  shabby  tree,  and  commanding  a  view  of  muddy 
roadway  and  blank  wall,  I  sat  down  to  wrestle  with  my 
misery.  The  weather  was  cheerless  and  dark;  in  three 
days  I  had  eaten  but  once;  I  had  no  tobacco;  my  shoes 
were  soaked,  my  trousers  horrid  with  mire;  my  humour 
and  all  the  circumstances  of  the  time  and  place  lugubri- 
ously attuned.  Here  were  two  men  who  had  both 
spoken  fairly  of  my  work  while  I  was  rich  and  wanted 
nothing;  now  that  I  was  poor  and  lacked  all:  "no 
genius,"  said  the  one;  "not  enough  for  an  orphan," 
the  other;  and  the  first  offered  me  my  passage  like  a 
pauper  immigrant,  and  the  second  refused  me  a  day's 
wage  as  a  hewer  of  stone  —  plain  dealing  for  an  empty 
belly.  They  had  not  been  insincere  in  the  past;  they 
were  not  insincere  to-day :  change  of  circumstance  had 
introduced  a  new  criterion :  that  was  all. 

But  if  I  acquitted  my  two  Job's  comforters  of  insin- 
cerity, I  was  yet  far  from  admitting  them  infallible. 
Artists  had  been  contemned  before,  and  had  lived  to 
turn  the  laugh  on  their  contemners.  How  old  was 
Corot  before  he  struck  the  vein  of  his  own  precious 
metal  ?  When  had  a  young  man  been  more  derided 
(or  more  justly  so)  than  the  god  of  my  admiration,  Bal- 
zac ?    Or  if  I  required  a  bolder  inspiration,  what  had  I 

86 


FN   WHICH   I   AM   DOWN  ON   MY    LUCK   IN    PARIS 

to  do  but  turn  my  head  to  where  the  gold  dome  of  the 
Invalides  glittered  against  inky  squalls,  and  recall  the 
tale  of  him  sleeping  there :  from  the  day  when  a  young 
artillery-sub  could  be  giggled  at  and  nicknamed  Puss- 
in-Boots  by  frisky  misses ;  on  to  the  days  of  so  many 
crowns  and  so  many  victories,  and  so  many  hundred 
mouths  of  cannon,  and  so  many  thousand  war-hoofs 
trampling  the  roadways  of  astonished  Europe  eighty 
miles  in  front  of  the  grand  army  ?  To  go  back,  to  give 
up,  to  proclaim  myself  a  failure,  an  ambitious  failure, 
first  a  rocket,  then  a  stick!  I,  Loudon  Dodd,  who  had 
refused  all  other  livelihoods  with  scorn,  and  been  adver- 
tised in  the  Saint  Joseph  Sunday  Herald  as  a  patriot  and 
an  artist,  to  be  returned  upon  my  native  Muskegon  like 
damaged  goods,  and  go  the  circuit  of  my  father's  ac- 
quaintance, cap  in  hand,  and  begging  to  sweep  offices! 
No,  by  Napoleon!  I  would  die  at  my  chosen  trade; 
and  the  two  who  had  that  day  flouted  me  should  live 
to  envy  my  success,  or  to  weep  tears  of  unavailing  peni- 
tence behind  my  pauper  coffin. 

Meantime,  if  my  courage  was  still  undiminished,  I 
was  none  the  nearer  to  a  meal.  At  no  great  distance 
my  cabman's  eating-house  stood,  at  the  tail  of  a  muddy 
cab-rank,  on  the  shores  of  a  wide  thoroughfare  of  mud, 
offering  (to  fancy)  a  face  of  ambiguous  invitation.  1 
might  be  received,  I  might  once  more  fill  my  belly  there ; 
on  the  other  hand,  it  was  perhaps  this  day  the  bolt  was 
destined  to  fall,  and  I  might  be  expelled  instead,  with 
vulgar  hubbub.  It  was  policy  to  make  the  attempt, 
and  I  knew  it  was  policy;  but  I  had  already,  in  the 
course  of  that  one  morning,  endured  too  many  affronts, 
and  I  felt  I  could  rather  starve  than  face  another.     I  had 

87 


THE  WRECKER 

courage  and  to  spare  for  the  future,  none  left  for  that 
day;  courage  for  the  main  campaign,  but  not  a  spark  of 
it  for  that  preliminary  skirmish  of  the  cabman's  restau- 
rant. I  continued  accordingly  to  sit  upon  my  bench,  not 
far  from  the  ashes  of  Napoleon,  now  drowsy,  now  light- 
headed, now  in  complete  mental  obstruction,  or  only 
conscious  of  an  animal  pleasure  in  quiescence;  and  now 
thinking,  planning,  and  remembering  with  unexampled 
clearness,  telling  myself  tales  of  sudden  wealth,  and 
gustfully  ordering  and  greedily  consuming  imaginary 
meals:  in  the  course  of  w'uich  I  must  have  dropped 
asleep. 

It  was  towards  dark  that  I  was  suddenly  recalled  to 
famine  by  a  cold  souse  of  rain,  and  sprang  shivering 
to  my  feet.  For  a  moment  I  stood  bewildered:  the 
whole  train  of  my  reasoning  and  dreaming  passed  afresh 
through  my  mind;  I  was  again  tempted,  drawn  as  if 
with  cords,  by  the  image  of  the  cabman's  eating-house, 
and  again  recoiled  from  the  possibility  of  insult.  "  Qui 
dort  dine/'  thought  I  to  myself;  and  took  my  home- 
ward way  with  wavering  footsteps,  through  rainy  streets 
in  which  the  lamps  and  the  shop-windows  now  began 
to  gleam ;  still  marshalling  imaginary  dinners  as  I  went. 

"Ah,  Monsieur  Dodd,"  said  the  porter,  "there  has 
been  a  registered  letter  for  you.  The  facteur  will  bring 
it  again  to-morrow." 

A  registered  letter  for  me,  who  had  been  so  long  with- 
out one  ?  Of  what  it  could  possibly  contain,  I  had  no 
vestige  of  a  guess ;  nor  did  I  delay  myself  guessing ;  far 
less  form  any  conscious  plan  of  dishonesty:  the  lies 
flowed  from  me  like  a  natural  secretion. 

"  O, "  said  I,  "my  remittance  at  last !     What  a  bother 

88 


IN   WHICH    I   AM    DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN    PARIS 

I  should  have  missed  it!  Can  you  lend  me  a  hundred 
francs  until  to-morrow  ?  " 

I  had  never  attempted  to  borrow  from  the  porter  till 
that  moment:  the  registered  letter  was,  besides,  my 
warranty;  and  he  gave  me  what  he  had  —  three  napo- 
leons and  some  francs  in  silver.  I  pocketed  the  money 
carelessly,  lingered  awhile  chaffing,  strolled  leisurely  to 
the  door;  and  then  (fast  as  my  trembling  legs  could 
carry  me)  round  the  corner  to  the  Cafe  de  Cluny.  French 
waiters  are  deft  and  speedy :  they  were  not  deft  enough 
for  me ;  and  I  had  scarce  decency  to  let  the  man  set  the 
wine  upon  the  table  or  put  the  butter  alongside  the 
bread,  before  my  glass  and  my  mouth  were  filled.  Ex- 
quisite bread  of  the  Cafe  Cluny,  exquisite  first  glass  of 
old  Pomard  tingling  to  my  wet  feet,  indescribable  first 
olive  culled  from  the  bors  d'auvre  —  I  suppose,  when 
I  come  to  lie  dying,  and  the  lamp  begins  to  grow  dim, 
I  shall  still  recall  your  savour.  Over  the  rest  of  that 
meal,  and  the  rest  of  the  evening,  clouds  lie  thick: 
clouds  perhaps  of  Burgundy ;  perhaps,  more  properly, 
of  famine  and  repletion. 

I  remember  clearly,  at  least,  the  shame,  the  despair, 
of  the  next  morning,  when  I  reviewed  what  I  had  done, 
and  how  I  had  swindled  the  poor,  honest  porter;  and, 
as  if  that  were  not  enough,  fairly  burnt  my  ships,  and 
brought  bankruptcy  home  to  that  last  refuge,  my  garret. 
The  porter  would  expect  his  money ;  I  could  not  pay 
him;  here  was  scandal  in  the  house;  and  I  knew  right 
well,  the  cause  of  scandal  would  have  to  pack.  "What 
do  you  mean  by  calling  my  honesty  in  question  ? "  I 
had  cried  the  day  before,  turning  upon  Myner.  Ah, 
that  day  before !  the  day  before  Waterloo,  the  day  be- 

8q 


THE   WRECKER 

fore  the  Flood ;  the  day  before  I  had  sold  the  roof  over 
my  head,  my  future,  and  my  self-respect,  for  a  dinner 
at  the  Cafe  Cluny ! 

In  the  midst  of  these  lamentations  the  famous  regis- 
tered letter  came  to  my  door,  with  healing  under  its 
seals.  It  bore  the  postmark  of  San  Francisco,  where 
Pinkerton  was  already  struggling  to  the  neck  in  multi- 
farious affairs:  it  renewed  the  offer  of  an  allowance, 
which  his  improved  estate  permitted  him  to  announce 
at  the  figure  of  two  hundred  francs  a  month ;  and  in 
case  I  was  in  some  immediate  pinch,  it  enclosed  an  in- 
troductory draft  for  forty  dollars.  There  are  a  thousand 
excellent  reasons  why  a  man,  in  this  self-helpful  epoch, 
should  decline  to  be  dependent  on  another;  but  the 
most  numerous  and  cogent  considerations  all  bow  to  a 
necessity  as  stern  as  mine ;  and  the  banks  were  scarce 
open  ere  the  draft  was  cashed. 

It  was  early  in  December  that  I  thus  sold  myself  into 
slavery ;  and  for  six  months  I  dragged  a  slowly  length- 
ening chain  of  gratitude  and  uneasiness.  At  the  cost 
of  some  debt  I  managed  to  excel  myself  and  eclipse  the 
Genius  of  Muskegon,  in  a  small  but  highly  patriotic 
Standard  "Bearer  for  the  Salon;  whither  it  was  duly 
admitted,  where  it  stood  the  proper  length  of  days  en- 
tirely unremarked,  and  whence  it  came  back  to  me  as 
patriotic  as  before.  I  threw  my  whole  soul  (as  Pinker- 
ton  would  have  phrased  it)  into  clocks  and  candlesticks; 
the  devil  a  candlestick-maker  would  have  anything  to 
say  to  my  designs.  Even  when  Dijon,  with  his  infinite 
good  humour  and  infinite  scorn  for  all  such  journey- 
work,  consented  to  peddle  them  in  indiscriminately 
with  his  own,  the  dealers  still  detected  and  rejected 

90 


IN   WHICH    1   AM   DOWN   ON   MY   LUCK   IN    PARIS 

mine.  Home  they  returned  to  me,  true  as  the  Standard 
Bearer;  who  now,  at  the  head  of  quite  a  regiment  of 
lesser  idols,  began  to  grow  an  eyesore  in  the  scanty 
studio  of  my  friend.  Dijon  and  I  have  sat  by  the  hour, 
and  gazed  upon  that  company  of  images.  The  severe, 
the  frisky,  the  classical,  the  Louis  Quinze,  were  there  — 
from  Joan  of  Arc  in  her  soldierly  cuirass  to  Leda  with 
the  swan;  nay,  and  God  forgive  me  for  a  man  that 
knew  better!  the  humorous  was  represented  also.  We 
sat  and  gazed,  I  say;  we  criticised,  we  turned  them 
hither  and  thither;  even  upon  the  closest  inspection  they 
looked  quite  like  statuettes;  and  yet  nobody  would  have 
a  gift  of  them ! 

Vanity  dies  hard;  in  some  obstinate  cases  it  outlives 
the  man:  but  about  the  sixth  month,  when  I  already 
owed  near  two  hundred  dollars  to  Pinkerton,  and  half 
as  much  again  in  debts  scattered  about  Paris,  I  awoke 
one  morning  with  a  horrid  sentiment  of  oppression,  and 
found  I  was  alone:  my  vanity  had  breathed  her  last 
during  the  night.  I  dared  not  plunge  deeper  in  the  bog; 
I  saw  no  hope  in  my  poor  statuary;  I  owned  myself 
beaten  at  last;  and  sitting  down  in  my  nightshirt  beside 
the  window,  whence  I  had  a  glimpse  of  the  tree-tops  at 
the  corner  of  the  boulevard,  and  where  the  music  of  its 
early  traffic  fell  agreeably  upon  my  ear,  I  penned  my 
farewell  to  Paris,  to  art,  to  my  whole  past  life,  and  my 
whole  former  self.  "\  give  in,"  I  wrote.  "When  the 
next  allowance  arrives,  I  shall  go  straight  out  West, 
where  you  can  do  what  you  like  with  me." 

It  is  to  be  understood  that  Pinkerton  had  been,  in  a 
sense,  pressing  me  to  come  from  the  beginning;  depict- 
ing his  isolation  among  new  acquaintances,  "who  have 

91 


THE  WRECKER 

none  of  them  your  culture,"  he  wrote;  expressing  his 
friendship  in  terms  so  warm  that  it  sometimes  embar- 
rassed me  to  think  how  poorly  I  could  echo  them; 
dwelling  upon  his  need  for  assistance;  and  the  next 
moment  turning  about  to  commend  my  resolution  and 
press  me  to  remain  in  Paris.  "Only  remember,  Lou- 
don," he  would  write,  "if  you  ever  do  tire  of  it,  there's 
plenty  work  here  for  you—- honest,  hard,  well-paid 
work,  developing  the  resources  of  this  practically  virgin 
State.  And  of  course  I  needn't  say  what  a  pleasure  it 
would  be  to  me  if  we  were  going  at  it  shoulder  to  shoul- 
der. ' '  I  marvel  (looking  back)  that  I  could  so  long  have 
resisted  these  appeals,  and  continued  to  sink  my  friend's 
money  in  a  manner  that  I  knew  him  to  dislike.  At 
least,  when  I  did  awake  to  any  sense  of  my  position, 
I  awoke  to  it  entirely;  and  determined  not  only  to 
follow  his  counsel  for  the  future,  but  even  as  regards 
the  past,  to  rectify  his  losses.  For  in  this  juncture 
of  affairs  I  called  to  mind  that  I  was  not  without  a 
possible  resource,  and  resolved,  at  whatever  cost  of 
mortification,  to  beard  the  Loudon  family  in  their  his- 
toric city. 

In  the  excellent  Scots'  phrase,  I  made  a  moonlight 
flitting,  a  thing  never  dignified,  but  in  my  case  unusually 
easy.  As  I  had  scarce  a  pair  of  boots  worth  portage,  I 
deserted  the  whole  of  my  effects  without  a  pang.  Dijon 
fell  heir  to  Joan  of  Arc,  the  Standard  Bearer,  and  the 
Musketeers.  He  was  present  when  I  bought  and  fru- 
gally stocked  my  new  portmanteau ;  and  it  was  at  the 
door  of  the  trunk  shop  that  I  took  my  leave  of  him,  for 
my  last  few  hours  in  Paris  must  be  spent  alone.  It  was 
alone  (and  at  a  far  higher  figure  than  my  finances  war- 
ps 


IN   WHICH    I    AM    DOWN   ON  MY   LUCK   IN    PARIS 

ranted)  that  I  discussed  my  dinner;  alone  that  I  took 
my  ticket  at  Saint  Lazare ;  all  alone,  though  in  a  carriage 
full  of  people,  that  I  watched  the  moon  shine  on  the 
Seine  flood  with  its  tufted  islets,  on  Rouen  with  her 
spires,  and  on  the  shipping  in  the  harbour  of  Dieppe. 
When  the  first  light  of  the  morning  called  me  from 
troubled  slumbers  on  the  deck,  I  beheld  the  dawn  at 
first  with  pleasure ;  I  watched  with  pleasure  the  green 
shores  of  England  rising  out  of  rosy  haze;  I  took  the 
salt  air  with  delight  into  my  nostrils ;  and  then  all  came 
back  to  me;  that  I  was  no  longer  an  artist,  no  longer 
myself;  that  I  was  leaving  all  I  cared  for,  and  returning 
to  all  that  I  detested,  the  slave  of  debt  and  gratitude,  a 
public  and  a  branded  failure. 

From  this  picture  of  my  own  disgrace  and  wretched- 
ness, it  is  not  wonderful  if  my  mind  turned  with  relief 
to  the  thought  of  Pinkerton,  waiting  for  me,  as  I  knew, 
with  unwearied  affection,  and  regarding  me  with  a 
respect  that  I  had  never  deserved,  and  might  therefore 
fairly  hope  that  I  should  never  forfeit.  The  inequality 
of  our  relation  struck  me  rudely.  I  must  have  been 
stupid,  indeed,  if  I  could  have  considered  the  history  of 
that  friendship  without  shame  —  I,  who  had  given  so 
little,  who  had  accepted  and  profited  by  so  much.  I 
had  the  whole  day  before  me  in  London,  and  I  deter- 
mined (at  least  in  words)  to  set  the  balance  somewhat 
straighten  Seated  in  a  corner  of  a  public  place,  and 
calling  for  sheet  after  sheet  of  paper,  I  poured  forth  the 
expression  of  my  gratitude,  my  penitence  for  the  past, 
my  resolutions  for  the  future.  Till  now,  I  told  him,  my 
course  had  been  mere  selfishness.  I  had  been  selfish  to 
my  father  and  to  my  friend,  taking  their  help,  and  deny- 

93 


THE  WRECKER. 

ing  them  (what  was  all  they  asked)  the  poor  gratifica- 
tion of  my  company  and  countenance. 

Wonderful  are  the  consolations  of  literature !  As  soon 
as  that  letter  was  written  and  posted,  the  consciousness 
of  virtue  glowed  in  my  veins  like  some  rare  vintage. 


94 


CHAPTER  VI 

IN   WHICH   I   GO   WEST 

1  reached  my  uncle's  door  next  morning  in  time  to 
sit  down  with  the  family  to  breakfast.  More  than  three 
years  had  intervened  almost  without  mutation  in  that 
stationary  household,  since  I  had  sat  there  first,  a  young 
American  freshman,  bewildered  among  unfamiliar  dain- 
ties, finnan  haddock,  kippered  salmon,  baps  and  mutton 
ham,  and  had  wearied  my  mind  in  vain  to  guess  what 
should  be  under  the  tea-cozy.  If  there  were  any  change 
at  all,  it  seemed  that  I  had  risen  in  the  family  esteem. 
My  father's  death  once  fittingly  referred  to,  with  a  cere- 
monial lengthening  of  Scotch  upper  lips  and  wagging 
of  the  female  head,  the  party  launched  at  once  (God 
help  me)  into  the  more  cheerful  topic  of  my  own  suc- 
cesses. They  had  been  so  pleased  to  hear  such  good 
accounts  of  me ;  I  was  quite  a  great  man  now ;  where 
was  that  beautiful  statue  of  the  Genius  of  Something  or 
other?  "You  haven't  it  here?  not  here?  Really?" 
asks  the  sprightliest  of  my  cousins,  shaking  curls  at  me; 
as  though  it  were  likely  I  had  brought  it  in  the  cab,  or 
kept  it  concealed  about  my  person  like  a  birthday  sur- 
prise. In  the  bosom  of  this  family,  unaccustomed  to 
the  tropical  nonsense  of  the  West,  it  became  plain  the 
Sunday  Herald  and  poor,  blethering  Pinkerton  had  been 

95 


THE   WRECKER 

accepted  for  their  face.  It  is  not  possible  to  invent  a 
circumstance  that  could  have  more  depressed  me ;  and  I 
am  conscious  that  I  behaved  all  through  that  breakfast 
like  a  whipt  schoolboy. 

At  length,  the  meal  and  family  prayers  being  both 
happily  over,  I  requested  the  favour  of  an  interview 
with  Uncle  Adam  on  "the  state  of  my  affairs."  At 
sound  of  this  ominous  expression,  the  good  man's  face 
conspicuously  lengthened;  and  when  my  grandfather, 
having  had  the  proposition  repeated  to  him  (for  he  was 
hard  of  hearing)  announced  his  intention  of  being  pres- 
ent at  the  interview,  I  could  not  out  think  that  Uncle 
Adam's  sorrow  kindled  into  momentary  irritation. 
Nothing,  however,  but  the  usual  grim  cordiality  ap- 
peared upon  the  surface;  and  we  all  three  passed  cere- 
moniously to  the  adjoining  library,  a  gloomy  theatre  for 
a  depressing  piece  of  business.  My  grandfather  charged 
a  clay  pipe,  and  sat  tremulously  smoking  in  a  corner  of 
the  tireless  chimney;  behind  him,  although  the  morning 
was  both  chill  and  dark,  the  window  was  partly  open 
and  the  blind  partly  down :  I  cannot  depict  what  an  air 
he  had  of  being  out  of  place,  like  a  man  shipwrecked 
there.  Uncle  Adam  had  his  station  at  the  business  table 
in  the  midst.  Valuable  rows  of  books  looked  down 
upon  the  place  of  torture ;  and  I  could  hear  sparrows 
chirping  in  the  garden,  and  my  sprightly  cousin  already 
banging  the  piano  and  pouring  forth  an  acid  stream  of 
song  from  the  drawing-room  overhead. 

It  was  in  these  circumstances  that,  with  all  brevity  of 
speech  and  a  certain  boyish  sullenness  of  manner,  look- 
ing the  while  upon  the  floor,  I  informed  my  relatives  of 
my  financial  situation:  the  amount  I  owed  Pinkerton; 

96 


IN   WHICH    I   GO   WEST 

the  hopelessness  of  any  maintenance  from  sculpture; 
the  career  offered  me  in  the  States ;  and  how,  before  be- 
coming more  beholden  to  a  stranger,  I  had  judged  it 
right  to  lay  the  case  before  my  family. 

"  I  am  only  sorry  you  did  not  come  to  me  at  first," 
said  Uncle  Adam.  "  I  take  the  liberty  to  say  it  would 
have  been  more  decent." 

"I  think  so  too,  Uncle  Adam,"  I  replied;  "but  you 
must  bear  in  mind  I  was  ignorant  in  what  light  you 
might  regard  my  application." 

1 '  I  hope  I  would  never  turn  my  back  on  my  own  flesh 
and  blood,"  he  returned  with  emphasis;  but  to  my 
anxious  ear,  with  more  of  temper  than  affection.  "I 
could  never  forget  you  were  my  sister's  son.  I  regard 
this  as  a  manifest  duty.  I  have  no  choice  but  to  accept 
the  entire  responsibility  of  the  position  you  have  made." 

I  did  not  know  what  else  to  do  but  murmur  "thank 
you." 

"  Yes,"  he  pursued,  "and  there  is  something  provi- 
dential in  the  circumstance  that  you  come  at  the  right 
time.  In  my  old  firm  there  is  a  vacancy;  they  call 
themselves  Italian  Warehousemen  now,"  he  continued, 
regarding  me  with  a  twinkle  of  humour;  "  so  you  may 
think  yourself  in  luck:  we  were  only  grocers  in  my 
day.     I  shall  place  you  there  to-morrow." 

"Stop  a  moment,  Uncle  Adam,"  I  broke  in.  "This 
is  not  at  all  what  I  am  asking.  I  ask  you  to  pay  Pinker- 
ton,  who  is  a  poor  man.  I  ask  you  to  clear  my  feet  of 
debt,  not  to  arrange  my  life  or  any  part  of  it." 

"If  I  wished  to  be  harsh,  I  might  remind  you  thai 
beggars  cannot  be  choosers,"  said  my  uncle;  "and  as 
to  managing  your  life,  you  have  tried  your  own  way 

97 


THE   WRECKER 

already';  and  you  see  what  you  have  made  of  it.  You 
must  now  accept  the  guidance  of  those  older  and  (what- 
ever you  may  think  of  it)  wiser  than  yourself.  All  these 
schemes  of  your  friend  (of  whom  I  know  nothing,  by 
the  by)  and  talk  of  openings  in  the  West,  I  simply  dis- 
regard. I  have  no  idea  whatever  of  your  going  troking 
across  a  continent  on  a  wild-goose  chase.  In  this  situ- 
ation, which  I  am  fortunately  able  to  place  at  your  dis- 
posal, and  which  many  a  well-conducted  young  man 
would  be  glad  to  jump  at,  you  will  receive,  to  begin 
with,  eighteen  shillings  a  week." 

"  Eighteen  shillings  a  week!'  I  cried.  "Why,  my 
poor  friend  gave  me  more  than  that  for  nothing! " 

"And  I  think  it  is  this  very  friend  you  are  now  trying 
to  repay  ?  "  observed  my  uncle,  with  an  air  of  one  ad- 
vancing a  strong  argument. 

"  Aadam ! "  said  my  grandfather. 

"  I'm  vexed  you  should  be  present  at  this  business," 
quoth  Uncle  Adam,  swinging  rather  obsequiously  to- 
wards the  stonemason;  "but  I  must  remind  you  it  is 
of  your  own  seeking." 

"  Aadam ! "  repeated  the  old  man. 

"Well,  sir,  I  am  listening,"  says  my  uncle. 

My  grandfather  took  a  puffor  two  in  silence ;  and  then, 
"Ye're  makin'  an  awful  poor  appearance,  Aadam," 
said  he. 

My  uncle  visibly  reared  at  the  affront.  "I'm  sorry 
you  should  think  so,"  said  he,  "and  still  more  sorry 
you  should  say  so  before  present  company." 

"A  believe  that;  A  ken  that,  Aadam,"  returned  old 
Loudon,  dryly;  "and  the  curiis  thing  is,  I'm  no  very 
carin'.     See  here,  ma  man,"  he  continued,  addressing 

98 


IN   WHICH    I    GO   WEST 

himself  to  me.  "  A'm  your  grandfather,  amn't  I  not? 
Never  you  mind  what  Aadam  says.  A'H  see  justice  din 
ye.     A'm  rich." 

"  Father,"  said  Uncle  Adam,  "  I  would  like  one  word 
with  you  in  private." 

I  rose  to  go. 

"Set  down  upon  your  hinderlands,"  cried  my  grand- 
father, almost  savagely.  "If  Aadam  has  anything  to 
say,  let  him  say  it.  It's  me  that  has  the  money  here; 
and  by  Gravy!  I'm  goin'  to  be  obeyed." 

Upon  this  scurvy  encouragement,  it  appeared  that 
my  uncle  had  no  remark  to  offer:  twice  challenged  to 
"speak  out  and  be  done  with  it,"  he  twice  sullenly  de- 
clined; and  I  may  mention  that  about  this  period  of  the 
engagement,  I  began  to  be  sorry  for  him. 

"See  here,  then,  Jeannie's  yin!  "  resumed  my  grand- 
father. "A'm  going  to  give  ye  a  set-off.  Your  mither 
was  always  my  fav'rite,  for  A  never  could  agree  with 
Aadam.  A  like  ye  fine  yoursel' ;  there's  nae  noansense 
aboot  ye;  ye've  a  fine  nayteral  idee  of  builder's  work; 
ye've  been  to  France,  where  they  tell  me  they're  grand 
at  the  stuccy.  A  splendid  thing  for  ceilin's,  the  stuccy! 
and  it's  a  vailyable  disguise,  too;  A  don't  believe  there's 
a  builder  in  Scotland  has  used  more  stuccy  than  me. 
But  as  A  was  savin',  if  ye'll  follie  that  trade,  with  the 
capital  that  A'm  goin'  to  give  ye,  ye  may  live  yet  to  be 
as  rich  as  mysel'.  Ye  see,  ye  would  have  always  had 
a  share  of  it  when  A  was  gone;  it  appears  ye're  needin' 
it  now;  well,  ye'll  get  the  less,  as  is  only  just  and 
proper." 

Uncle  Adam  cleared  his  throat.  "This  is  very  hand- 
some, father,"  said  he;  "and  I  am  sure  Loudon  feels  it 

99 


THE   WRECKER 

so.  Very  handsome,  and  as  you  say,  very  just;  but 
will  you  allow  me  to  say  that  it  had  better,  perhaps,  be 
put  in  black  and  white  ?  " 

The  enmity  always  smouldering  between  the  two 
men  at  this  ill-judged  interruption  almost  burst  in  flame. 
The  stonemason  turned  upon  his  offspring,  his  long 
upper  lip  pulled  down,  for  all  the  world,  like  a  monkey's. 
He  stared  awhile  in  virulent  silence;  and  then,  "Get 
Gregg!"  said  he. 

The  effect  of  these  words  was  very  visible.  "  He  will 
be  gone  to  his  office,"  stammered  my  uncle. 

"Get  Gregg!"  repeated  my  grandfather. 

"I  tell  you,  he  will  be  gone  to  his  office,"  reiterated 
Adam. 

"And  I  tell  ye,  he's  takin'  his  smoke,"  retorted  the 
old  man. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  cried  my  uncle,  getting  to  his  feet 
with  some  alacrity,  as  upon  a  sudden  change  of  thought, 
"I  will  get  him  myself." 

" Ye  will  not!  "  cried  my  grandfather.  "Ye  will  sit 
there  upon  your  hinderland." 

"Then  how  the  devil  am  I  to  get  him?"  my  uncle 
broke  forth,  with  not  unnatural  petulance. 

My  grandfather  (having  no  possible  answer)  grinned 
at  his  son  with  the  malice  of  a  schoolboy ;  then  he  rang 
the  bell. 

"Take  the  garden  key,"  said  Uncle  Adam  to  the  ser- 
vant; "go  over  to  the  garden,  and  if  Mr.  Gregg  the 
lawyer  is  there  (he  generally  sits  underthe  red  hawthorn), 
give  him  old  Mr.  Loudon's  compliments,  and  will  he 
step  in  here  for  a  moment?" 

' '  Mr.  Gregg  the  lawyer ! "    At  once  I  understood  (what 


IN   WHICH   1   GO  WEST 

had  been  puzzling  me)  the  significance  of  my  grand- 
father and  the  alarm  of  my  poor  uncle :  the  stonemason's 
will,  it  was  supposed,  hung  trembling  in  the  balance. 

"Look  here,  grandfather,"  I  said,  "I  didn't  want  any 
of  this.  All  I  wanted  was  a  loan  of  (say)  two  hundred 
pounds.  I  can  take  care  of  myself;  I  have  prospects  and 
opportunities,  good  friends  in  the  States " 

The  old  man  waved  me  down.  "  It's  me  that  speaks 
here,"  he  said  curtly;  and  we  waited  the  coming  of  the 
lawyer  in  a  triple  silence.  He  appeared  at  last,  the  maid 
ushering  him  in  —  a  spectacled,  dry  but  not  ungenial 
looking  man. 

"Here,  Gregg,"  cried  my  grandfather.  "Just a  ques- 
tion.    What  has  Aadam  got  to  do  with  my  will  ?  " 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  the  law- 
yer, staring. 

"What  has  he  got  to  do  with  it?"  repeated  the  old 
man,  smiting  with  his  fist  upon  the  arm  of  his  chair. 
"  Is  my  money  mine's,  or  is  it  Aadam's  ?  Can  Aadam 
interfere  ?  " 

"O,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Gregg.  "Certainly  not.  On 
the  marriage  of  both  of  your  children  a  certain  sum 
was  paid  down  and  accepted  in  full  of  legitim.  You 
have  surely  not  forgotten  the  circumstance,  Mr.  Lou- 
don ?" 

"So  that,  if  I  like,"  concluded  my  grandfather,  ham- 
mering out  his  words,  "  I  can  leave  every  doit  I  die  pos- 
sessed of  to  the  Great  Magunn  ?  " —  meaning  probably 
the  Great  Mogul. 

"No  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Gregg,  with  a  shadow  of  a 
smile. 

"Ye  hear  that,  Aadam  ?"  asked  my  grandfather. 

IO! 


THE  WRECKER 

"I  may  be  allowed  to  say  I  had  no  need  to  hear  it," 
said  my  uncle. 

' '  Very  well, "  says  my  grandfather.  '  *  You  and  Jean- 
nie's  yin  can  go  for  a  bit  walk.  Me  and  Gregg  has 
business." 

When  once  I  was  in  the  hall  alone  with  Uncle  Adam, 
I  turned  to  him,  sick  at  heart.  "  Uncle  Adam,"  I  said, 
"you  can  understand,  better  than  I  can  say,  how  very 
painful  all  this  is  to  me/' 

"Yes,  I  am  sorry  you  have  seen  your  grandfather  in 
so  unamiable  a  light,"  replied  this  extraordinary  man. 
"You  shouldn't  allow  it  to  affect  your  mind  though. 
He  has  sterling  qualities,  quite  an  extraordinary  charac- 
ter; and  I  have  no  fear  but  he  means  to  behave  hand- 
somely to  you." 

His  composure  was  beyond  my  imitation :  the  house 
could  not  contain  me,  nor  could  I  even  promise  to  re- 
turn to  it:  in  concession  to  which  weakness,  it  was 
agreed  that  I  should  call  in  about  an  hour  at  the  office 
of  the  lawyer,  whom  (as  he  left  the  library)  Uncle  Adam 
should  waylay  and  inform  of  the  arrangement.  I  sup- 
pose there  was  never  a  more  topsy-turvy  situation :  you 
would  have  thought  it  was  I  who  had  suffered  some 
rebuff,  and  that  iron-sided  Adam  was  a  generous  con- 
queror who  scorned  to  take  advantage. 

It  was  plain  enough  that  I  was  to  be  endowed:  to 
what  extent  and  upon  what  conditions  I  was  now  left 
for  an  hour  to  meditate  in  the  wide  and  solitary  thorough- 
fares of  the  new  town,  taking  counsel  with  street-corner 
statues  of  George  IV.  and  William  Pitt,  improving  my 
mind  with  the  pictures  in  the  window  of  a  music-shop, 
and  renewing  my  acquaintance  with  Edinburgh  east 

102 


IN   WHICH   I   GO   WEST 

wind.  By  the  end  of  the  hour  I  made  my  way  to  Mr. 
Gregg's  office,  where  I  was  placed,  with  a  few  appro- 
priate words,  in  possession  of  a  cheque  for  two  thousand 
pounds  and  a  small  parcel  of  architectural  works. 

"Mr.  Loudon  bids  me  add,"  continued  the  lawyer, 
consulting  a  little  sheet  of  notes,  "that  although  these 
volumes  are  very  valuable  to  the  practical  builder,  you 
must  be  careful  not  to  lose  originality.  He  tells  you 
also  not  to  be  'hadden  doun ' — his  own  expression  — 
by  the  theory  of  strains,  and  that  Portland  cement, 
properly  sanded,  will  go  a  long  way." 

I  smiled,  and  remarked  that  I  supposed  it  would. 

"I  once  lived  in  one  of  my  excellent  client's  houses," 
observed  the  lawyer;  "  and  I  was  tempted,  in  that  case, 
to  think  it  had  gone  far  enough." 

"Under  these  circumstances,  sir,"  said  I,  "you  will 
be  rather  relieved  to  hear  that  I  have  no  intention  of  be- 
coming a  builder." 

At  this,  he  fairly  laughed ;  and,  the  ice  being  broken, 
I  was  able  to  consult  him  as  to  my  conduct.  He  in- 
sisted I  must  return  to  the  house,  at  least,  for  luncheon, 
and  one  of  my  walks  with  Mr.  Loudon.  "For  the 
evening,  I  will  furnish  you  with  an  excuse,  if  you 
please,"  said  he,  "by  asking  you  to  a  bachelor  dinner 
with  myself.  But  the  luncheon  and  the  walk  are  una- 
voidable. He  is  an  old  man,  and,  I  believe,  really  fond 
of  you ;  he  would  naturally  feel  aggrieved  if  there  were 
any  appearance  of  avoiding  him ;  and  as  for  Mr.  Adam, 
do  you  know,  I  think  your  delicacy  out  of  place.  .  .  . 
And  now,  Mr.  Dodd,  what  are  you  to  do  with  this 
money  ?  " 

Ay,  there  was  the  question.  With  two  thousand 
103 


THE  WRECKER 

pounds  —  fifty  thousand  francs  —  I  might  return  to  Paris 
and  the  arts,  and  be  a  prince  and  millionnaire  in  that 
thrifty  Latin  Quarter.  I  think  I  had  the  grace,  with  one 
corner  of  my  mind,  to  be  glad  that  I  had  sent  the  Lon- 
don letter:  I  know  very  well  that  with  the  rest  and 
worst  of  me,  I  repented  bitterly  of  that  precipitate  act. 
On  one  point,  however,  my  whole  multiplex  estate  of 
man  was  unanimous:  the  letter  being  gone,  there  was 
no  help  but  I  must  follow.  The  money  was  accord- 
ingly divided  into  two  unequal  shares :  for  the  first,  Mr. 
Gregg  got  me  a  bill  in  the.  name  of  Dijon  to  meet  my 
liabilities  in  Paris ;  for  the  second,  as  I  had  already  cash 
in  hand  for  the  expenses  of  my  journey,  he  supplied  me 
with  drafts  on  San  Francisco. 

The  rest  of  my  business  in  Edinburgh,  not  to  dwell 
on  a  very  agreeable  dinner  with  the  lawyer  or  the  hor- 
rors of  the  family  luncheon,  took  the  form  of  an  excur- 
sion with  the  stonemason,  who  led  me  this  time  to  no 
suburb  or  work  of  his  old  hands,  but  with  an  impulse 
both  natural  and  pretty,  to  that  more  enduring  home 
which  he  had  chosen  for  his  clay.  It  was  in  a  ceme- 
tery, by  some  strange  chance,  immured  within  the  bul- 
warks of  a  prison;  standing,  besides,  on  the  margin  of 
a  cliff,  crowded  with  elderly  stone  memorials,  and  green 
with  turf  and  ivy.  The  east  wind  (which  I  thought  too 
harsh  for  the  old  man)  continually  shook  the  boughs, 
and  the  thin  sun  of  a  Scottish  summer  drew  their  danc- 
ing shadows. 

' '  I  wanted  ye  to  see  the  place, "  said  he.  ' '  Yon's  the 
stane.  Euphemia  Ross:  that  was  my  good  wife,  your 
grandmither — hoots!  I'm  wrong;  that  was  my  first 
y in ;  I  had  no  bairns  by  her ;  —  yours  is  the  second,  Mary 

104 


IN   WHICH    I   GO   WEST 

Murray,  Born  1819,  Died  1850:  that's  her  —  a  fine, 
plain,  decent  sort  of  a  creature,  tak'  her  athegether. 
Alexander  Loudon,  Born  Seventeen  Ninety-  Twa,  Died — 
and  then  a  hole  in  the  ballant:  that's  me.  Alexander's 
my  name.  They  ca'd  me  Ecky  when  I  was  a  boy.  Eh, 
Ecky !  ye're  an  awful  auld  man!  " 

I  had  a  second  and  sadder  experience  of  graveyards 
at  my  next  alighting-place,  the  city  of  Muskegon,  now 
rendered  conspicuous  by  the  dome  of  the  new  capitol 
encaged  in  scaffolding.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon 
when  I  arrived,  and  raining;  and  as  I  walked  in  great 
streets,  of  the  very  name  of  which  I  was  quite  igno- 
rant—  double,  treble,  and  quadruple  lines  of  horse-cars 
jingling  by  —  hundred-fold  wires  of  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone matting  heaven  above  my  head  —  huge,  staring 
houses,  garish  and  gloomy,  flanking  me  from  either 
hand  —  the  thought  of  the  Rue  Racine,  ay,  and  of  the 
cabman's  eating-house,  brought  tears  to  my  eyes.  The 
whole  monotonous  Babel  had  grown,  or  I  should  rather 
say  swelled,  with  such  a  leap  since  my  departure,  that 
I  must  continually  inquire  my  way,  and  the  very  ceme- 
tery was  brand  new.  Death,  however,  had  been  active; 
the  graves  were  already  numerous,  and  I  must  pick  my 
way  in  the  rain,  among  the  tawdry  sepulchres  of  mil- 
lionnaires,  and  past  the  plain,  black  crosses  of  Hungarian 
labourers,  till  chance  or  instinct  led  me  to  the  place  that 
was  my  father's.  The  stone  had  been  erected  (I  knew 
already)  "by  admiring  friends";  I  could  now  judge 
their  taste  in  monuments;  their  taste  in  literature,  me- 
thought,  I  could  imagine,  and  I  refrained  from  drawing 
near  enough  to  read  the  terms  of  the  inscription.  But 
the  name  was  in  larger  letters  and  stared  at  me  — James 

105 


THE  WRECKER 

K.  Dodd.  What  a  singular  thing  is  a  name,  I  thought; 
how  it  clings  to  a  man,  and  continually  misrepresents, 
and  then  survives  him;  and  it  flashed  across  my  mind, 
with  a  mixture  of  regret  and  bitter  mirth,  that  I  had 
never  known,  and  now  probably  never  should  know, 
what  the  K  had  represented.  King,  Kilter,  Kay,  Kai- 
ser, I  went,  running  over  names  at  random,  and  then 
stumbled  with  ludicrous  misspelling  on  Kornelius,  and 
had  nearly  laughed  aloud.  I  have  never  been  more  child- 
ish ;  I  suppose  (although  the  deeper  voices  of  my  na- 
ture seemed  all  dumb)  because  I  have  never  been  more 
moved.  And  at  this  last  incongruous  antic  of  my 
nerves,  I  was  seized  with  a  panic  of  remorse  and  fled 
the  cemetery. 

Scarce  less  funereal  was  the  rest  of  my  experience  in 
Muskegon,  where,  nevertheless,  I  lingered,  visiting  my 
father's  circle,  for  some  days.  It  was  in  piety  to  him 
I  lingered;  and  I  might  have  spared  myself  the  pain. 
His  memory  was  already  quite  gone  out.  For  his  sake, 
indeed,  I  was  made  welcome;  and  for  mine  the  conver- 
sation rolled  awhile  with  laborious  effort  on  the  virtues 
of  the  deceased.  His  former  comrades  dwelt,  in  my 
company,  upon  his  business  talents  or  his  generosity 
for  public  purposes;  when  my  back  was  turned,  they 
remembered  him  no  more.  My  father  had  loved  me; 
I  had  left  him  alone  to  live  and  die  among  the  indif- 
ferent; now  I  returned  to  find  him  dead  and  buried  and 
forgotten.  Unavailing  penitence  translated  itself  in  my 
thoughts  to  fresh  resolve.  There  was  another  poor  soul 
who  loved  me:  Pinkerton.  I  must  not  be  guilty  twice 
of  the  same  error. 

A  week  perhaps  had  been  thus  wasted,  nor  had  I 

1 06 


IN   WHICH   I  GO   WEST 

prepared  my  friend  for  the  delay.  Accordingly,  when 
I  had  changed  trains  at  Council  Bluffs,  I  was  aware  of 
a  man  appearing  at  the  end  of  the  car  with  a  telegram 
in  his  hand  and  inquiring  whether  there  were  any  one 
aboard  "of  the  name  of  London  Dodd?"  I  thought 
the  name  near  enough,  claimed  the  despatch,  and  found 
it  was  from  Pinkerton:  "What  day  do  you  arrive? 
Awfully  important."  I  sent  him  an  answer  giving  day 
and  hour,  and  at  Ogden  found  a  fresh  despatch  awaiting 
me:  "That  will  do.  Unspeakable  relief.  Meet  you  at 
Sacramento."  In  Paris  days  I  had  a  private  name  for 
Pinkerton:  "The  Irrepressible"  was  what  I  had  called 
him  in  hours  of  bitterness;  and  the  name  rose  once 
more  on  my  lips.  What  mischief  was  he  up  to  now  ? 
What  new  bowl  was  my  benignant  monster  brewing 
for  his  Frankenstein  ?  In  what  new  imbroglio  should  I 
alight  on  the  Pacific  coast  ?  My  trust  in  the  man  was 
entire,  and  my  distrust  perfect.  I  knew  he  would  never 
mean  amiss ;  but  I  was  convinced  he  would  almost  never 
(in  my  sense)  do  aright. 

I  suppose  these  vague  anticipations  added  a  shade  of 
gloom  to  that  already  gloomy  place  of  travel:  Nebraska, 
Wyoming,  Utah,  Nevada,  scowled  in  my  face  at  least, 
and  seemed  to  point  me  back  again  to  that  other  native 
land  of  mine,  the  Latin  Quarter.  But  when  the  Sierras 
had  been  climbed,  and  the  train,  after  so  long  beating 
and  panting,  stretched  itself  upon  the  downward  track 
—  when  I  beheld  that  vast  extent  of  prosperous  country 
rolling  seaward  from  the  woods  and  the  blue  mountains, 
that  illimitable  spread  of  rippling  corn,  the  trees  grow- 
ing and  blowing  in  the  merry  weather,  the  country  boys 
thronging  aboard  the  train  with  figs  and  peaches,  and 

107 


THE  WRECKER 

the  conductors,  and  the  very  darky  stewards,  visibly 
exulting  in  the  change  —  up  went  my  soul  like  a  balloon ; 
Care  fell  from  his  perch  upon  my  shoulders ;  and  when 
I  spied  my  Pinkerton  among  the  crowd  at  Sacramento, 
I  thought  of  nothing  but  to  shout  and  wave  for  him, 
and  grasp  him  by  the  hand,  like  what  he  was  —  my 
dearest  friend. 

"O  Loudon!"  he  cried.  "Man,  how  I've  pined  for 
you !  And  you  haven't  come  an  hour  too  soon.  You're 
known  here  and  waited  for;  I've  been  booming  you 
already;  you're  billed  for  a  lecture  to-morrow  night; 
Student  Life  in  Paris,  Grave  avd  Gay :  twelve  hundred 
places  booked  at  the  last  stock!  Tut,  man,  you're  look- 
ing thin!  Here,  try  a  drop  of  this."  And  he  produced 
a  case  bottle,  staringly  labelled  Pinkerton's  Thirteen 
Star  Golden  State  Brandy,  Warranted  Entire. 

"God  bless  me!"  said  I,  gasping  and  winking  after 
my  first  plunge  into  this  fiery  fluid.  "  And  what  does 
'  Warranted  Entire '  mean  ?  " 

"Why,  Loudon!  you  ought  to  know  that!"  cried 
Pinkerton.  "It's  real,  copper-bottomed  English;  you 
see  it  on  all  the  old-time  wayside  hostelries  over  there." 

"  But  if  I'm  not  mistaken,  it  means  something  War- 
ranted Entirely  different,"  said  I,  "and  applies  to  the 
public  house,  and  not  the  beverages  sold." 

' '  It's  very  possible, "  said  Jim,  quite  unabashed.  ' '  It's 
effective,  anyway ;  and  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  it  has  boomed 
that  spirit:  it  goes  now  by  the  gross  of  cases.  By  the 
way,  I  hope  you  won't  mind;  I've  got  your  portrait  all 
over  San  Francisco  for  the  lecture,  enlarged  from  that 
carte  de  visit:  H.  Loudon  Dodd,  the  Americo-Parisienne 
Sculptor.     Here's  a  proof  of  the  small  handbills;  the 

108 


IN   WHICH    I    GO   WEST 

posters  are  the  same,  only  in  red  and  blue,  and  the  let- 
ters fourteen  by  one." 

I  looked  at  the  handbill,  and  my  head  turned.  What 
was  the  use  of  words  ?  why  seek  to  explain  to  Pinker- 
ton  the  knotted  horrors  of  "  Americo-Parisienne"  ?  He 
took  an  early  occasion  to  point  it  out  as  "  rather  a  good 
phrase;  gives  the  two  sides  at  a  glance:  I  wanted  the 
lecture  written  up  to  that."  Even  after  we  had  reached 
San  Francisco,  and  at  the  actual  physical  shock  of  my 
own  effigy  placarded  on  the  streets  I  had  broken  forth 
in  petulant  words,  he  never  comprehended  in  the  least 
the  ground  of  my  aversion. 

"If  I  had  only  known  you  disliked  red  lettering!" 
was  as  high  as  he  could  rise.  "  You  are  perfectly  right: 
a  clear-cut  black  is  preferable,  and  shows  a  great  deal 
further.  The  only  thing  that  pains  me  is  the  portrait: 
I  own  I  thought  that  a  success.  I'm  dreadfully  and 
truly  sorry,  my  dear  fellow :  I  see  now  it's  not  what  you 
had  a  right  to  expect;  but  I  did  it,  Loudon,  for  the  best; 
and  the  press  is  all  delighted." 

At  the  moment,  sweeping  through  green  tule  swamps, 

I  fell  direct  on  the  essential.     "  But,  Pinkerton,"  I  cried, 

II  this  lecture  is  the  maddest  of  your  madnesses.  How 
can  I  prepare  a  lecture  in  thirty  hours?" 

' '  All  done,  Loudon ! "  he  exclaimed  in  triumph.  ' '  All 
ready.  Trust  me  to  pull  a  piece  of  business  through. 
You'll  find  it  all  type-written  in  my  desk  at  home.  I 
put  the  best  talent  of  San  Francisco  on  the  job :  Harry 
Miller,  the  brightest  pressman  in  the  city." 

And  so  he  rattled  on,  beyond  reach  of  my  modest 
protestations,  blurting  out  his  complicated  interests, 
crying  up  his  new  acquaintances,  and  ever  and  again 

109 


THE  WRECKER 

hungering  to  introduce  me  to  some  "whole-souled 
grand  fellow,  as  sharp  as  a  needle,"  from  whom,  and 
the  very  thought  of  whom,  my  spirit  shrank  instinct- 
ively. 

Well,  I  was  in  for  it :  in  for  Pinkerton,  in  for  the  por- 
trait, in  for  the  type-written  lecture.  One  promise  I 
extorted — that  I  was  never  again  to  be  committed  in 
ignorance ;  even  for  that,  when  I  saw  how  its  extortion 
puzzled  and  depressed  the  Irrepressible,  my  soul  re- 
pented me;  and  in  all  else  I  suffered  myself  to  be  led 
uncomplaining  at  his  chariot  wheels.  The  Irrepressible, 
did  I  say  ?    The  Irresistible  were  nigher  truth. 

But  the  time  to  have  seen  me  was  when  I  sat  down 
to  Harry  Miller's  lecture.  He  was  a  facetious  dog,  this 
Harry  Miller;  he  had  a  gallant  way  of  skirting  the  in- 
decent which  (in  my  case)  produced  physical  nausea; 
and  he  could  be  sentimental  and  even  melodramatic 
about  grisettes  and  starving  genius.  I  found  he  had 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  my  correspondence  with  Pinker- 
ton  :  adventures  of  my  own  were  here  and  there  horridly 
misrepresented,  sentiments  of  my  own  echoed  and  ex- 
aggerated till  I  blushed  to  recognise  them.  I  will  do 
Harry  Miller  justice:  he  must  have  had  a  kind  of  talent, 
almost  of  genius;  all  attempts  to  lower  his  tone  proving 
fruitless,  and  the  Harry-Millerism  ineradicable.  Nay, 
the  monster  had  a  certain  key  of  style,  or  want  of  style, 
so  that  certain  milder  passages,  which  I  sought  to  intro- 
duce, discorded  horribly,  and  impoverished  (if  that  were 
possible)  the  general  effect. 

By  an  early  hour  of  the  numbered  evening  I  might 
have  been  observed  at  the  sign  of  the  Poodle  Dog,  din- 
ing with  my  agent:  so  Pinkerton  delighted  to  describe 

no 


IN   WHICH   I   GO  WEST 

himself.  Thence,  like  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  he  led 
me  to  the  hall,  where  I  stood  presently  alone,  confront- 
ing assembled  San  Francisco,  with  no  better  allies  than 
a  table,  a  glass  of  water,  and  a  mass  of  manuscript  and 
type-work,  representing  Harry  Miller  and  myself.  I  read 
the  lecture;  for  I  had  lacked  both  time  and  will  to  get 
the  trash  by  heart — read  it  hurriedly,  humbly,  and  with 
visible  shame.  Now  and  then  I  would  catch  in  the 
auditorium  an  eye  of  some  intelligence,  now  and  then, 
in  the  manuscript,  would  stumble  on  a  richer  vein  of 
Harry  Miller,  and  my  heart  would  fail  me,  and  I  gabbled. 
The  audience  yawned,  it  stirred  uneasily,  it  muttered, 
grumbled,  and  broke  forth  at  last  in  articulate  cries  of 
' '  Speak  up ! "  and  ' '  Nobody  can  hear ! "  I  took  to  skip- 
ping, and  being  extremely  ill-acquainted  with  the  coun- 
try, almost  invariably  cut  in  again  in  the  unintelligible 
midst  of  some  new  topic.  What  struck  me  as  extremely 
ominous,  these  misfortunes  were  allowed  to  pass  with- 
out a  laugh.  Indeed,  I  was  beginning  to  fear  the  worst, 
and  even  personal  indignity,  when  all  at  once  the  hu- 
mour of  the  thing  broke  upon  me  strongly.  I  could 
have  laughed  aloud;  and  being  again  summoned  to 
speak  up,  I  faced  my  patrons  for  the  first  time  with  a 
smile.  "  Very  well,"  I  said,  "  I  will  try;  though  I  don't 
suppose  anybody  wants  to  hear,  and  I  can't  see  why 
anybody  should."  Audience  and  lecturer  laughed  to- 
gether till  the  tears  ran  down ;  vociferous  and  repeated 
applause  hailed  my  impromptu  sally.  Another  hit 
which  I  made  but  a  little  after,  as  I  turned  three  pages 
of  the  copy:  "  You  see  I  am  leaving  out  as  much  as  I 
possibly  can,"  increased  the  esteem  with  which  my 
patrons  had  begun  to  regard  me;  and  when  I  left  the 


THE  WRECKER 

stage  at  last,  my  departing  form  was  cheered  with 
laughter,  stamping,  shouting,  and  the  waving  of  hats. 

Pinkerton  was  in  the  waiting-room,  feverishly  jotting 
in  his  pocket-book.  As  he  saw  me  enter,  he  sprang  up, 
and  I  declare,  the  tears  were  trickling  on  his  cheeks. 

"My  dear  boy,"  he  cried,  "I  can  never  forgive  my- 
self, and  you  can  never  forgive  me.  Never  mind :  I  did 
it  for  the  best.  And  how  nobly  you  clung  on!  I 
dreaded  we  should  have  had  to  return  the  money  at  the 
doors." 

"  It  would  have  been  more  honest  if  we  had,"  said  I. 

The  pressmen  followed  mr,  Harry  Miller  in  the  front 
ranks;  and  I  was  amazed  to  find  them,  on  the  whole,  a 
pleasant  set  of  lads,  probably  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning,  and  even  Harry  Miller  apparently  a  gentleman. 
I  had  in  oysters  and  champagne  —  for  the  receipts  were 
excellent  —  and  being  in  a  high  state  of  nervous  tension, 
kept  the  table  in  a  roar.  Indeed,  I  was  never  in  my 
life  so  well  inspired  as  when  I  described  my  vigil  over 
Harry  Miller's  literature  or  the  series  of  my  emotions 
as  I  faced  the  audience.  The  lads  vowed  I  was  the 
soul  of  good  company  and  the  prince  of  lecturers;  and 
—  so  wonderful  an  institution  is  the  popular  press  —  if 
you  had  seen  the  notices  next  day  in  all  the  papers,  you 
must  have  supposed  my  evening's  entertainment  an 
unqualified  success. 

I  was  in  excellent  spirits  when  I  returned  home  that 
night,  but  the  miserable  Pinkerton  sorrowed  for  us 
both. 

"  O,  Loudon,"  he  said,  "I  shall  never  forgive  myself. 
When  I  saw  you  didn't  catch  on  to  the  idea  of  the  lec- 
ture, I  should  have  given  it  myself! " 


CHAPTER  VII 

IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 
Opes  Strepitumque 

The  food  of  the  body  differs  not  so  greatly  for  the 
fool  or  the  sage,  the  elephant  or  the  cock-sparrow ;  and 
similar  chemical  elements,  variously  disguised,  support 
all  mortals.  A  brief  study  of  Pinkerton  in  his  new  set- 
ting convinced  me  of  a  kindred  truth  about  that  other 
and  mental  digestion,  by  which  we  extract  what  is 
called  "fun  for  our  money''  out  of  life.  In  the  same 
spirit  as  a  schoolboy,  deep  in  Mayne  Reid,  handles  a 
dummy  gun  and  crawls  among  imaginary  forests,  Pink- 
erton sped  through  Kearney  Street  upon  his  daily  busi- 
ness, representing  to  himself  a  highly  coloured  part  in 
life's  performance,  and  happy  for  hours  if  he  should  have 
chanced  to  brush  against  a  millionnaire.  Reality  was  his 
romance;  he  gloried  to  be  thus  engaged;  he  wallowed 
in  his  business.  Suppose  a  man  to  dig  up  a  galleon  on 
the  Coromandel  coast,  his  rakish  schooner  keeping  the 
while  an  offing  under  easy  sail,  and  he,  by  the  blaze  of 
a  great  fire  of  wreckwood,  to  measure  ingots  by  the 
bucketful  on  the  uproarious  beach :  such  an  one  might 
realise  a  greater  material  spoil;  he  should  have  no  more 
profit  of  romance  than  Pinkerton  when  he  cast  up  his 
weekly  balance-sheet  in  a  bald  office.  Every  dollar 
gained  was  like  something  brought  ashore  from  a  mys- 

113 


THE  WRECKER 

terious  deep;  every  venture  made  was  like  a  diver's 
plunge;  and  as  he  thrust  his  bold  hand  into  the  plexus 
of  the  money-market,  he  was  delightedly  aware  of  how 
he  shook  the  pillars  of  existence,  turned  out  men  (as  at 
a  battle-cry)  to  labour  in  far  countries,  and  set  the  gold 
twitching  in  the  drawers  of  millionnaires. 

I  could  never  fathom  the  full  extent  of  his  specula- 
tions ;  but  there  were  five  separate  businesses  which  he 
avowed  and  carried  like  a  banner.  The  Thirteen  Star 
Golden  State  Brandy,  Warranted  Entire  (a  very  flagrant 
distillation)  filled  a  great  part  of  his  thoughts  and  was 
kept  before  the  public  in  an  eloquent  but  misleading 
treatise :  Why  Drink  French  Brandy  ?  A  Word  to  the 
Wise.  He  kept  an  office  for  advertisers,  counselling, 
designing,  acting  as  middleman  with  printers  and  bill- 
stickers,  for  the  inexperienced  or  the  uninspired:  the 
dull  haberdasher  came  to  him  for  ideas,  the  smart  theat- 
rical agent  for  his  local  knowledge;  and  one  and  all 
departed  with  a  copy  of  his  pamphlet:  How,  When,  and 
Where ;  or,  the  Advertiser's  Vade-Mecum.  He  had  a 
tug  chartered  every  Saturday  afternoon  and  night,  car- 
ried people  outside  the  Heads,  and  provided  them  with 
lines  and  bait  for  six  hours'  fishing,  at  the  rate  of  five 
dollars  a  person.  I  am  told  that  some  of  them  (doubt- 
less adroit  anglers)  made  a  profit  on  the  transaction. 
Occasionally  he  bought  wrecks  and  condemned  vessels; 
these  latter  (I  cannot  tell  you  how)  found  their  way 
to  sea  again  under  aliases,  and  continued  to  stem  the 
waves  triumphantly  enough  under  the  colours  of  Bo- 
livia or  Nicaragua.  Lastly,  there  was  a  certain  agri- 
cultural engine,  glorying  in  a  great  deal  of  vermilion 
and  blue  paint,  and  filling  (it  appeared)  a  "long-felt 

114 


IRONS  IN   THE  FIRE 

want,"  in  which  his  interest  was  something  like  a 
tenth. 

This  for  the  face  or  front  of  his  concerns.  "On  the 
outside,"  as  he  phrased  it,  he  was  variously  and  mys- 
teriously engaged.  No  dollar  slept  in  his  possession; 
rather  he  kept  all  simultaneously  flying  like  a  conjurer 
with  oranges.  My  own  earnings,  when  I  began  to  have 
a  share,  he  would  but  show  me  for  a  moment,  and  dis- 
perse again,  like  those  illusive  money  gifts  which  are 
flashed  in  the  eyes  of  childhood  only  to  be  entombed  in 
the  missionary  box.  And  he  would  come  down  radiant 
from  a  weekly  balance-sheet,  clap  me  on  the  shoulder, 
declare  himself  a  winner  by  Gargantuan  figures,  and 
prove  destitute  of  a  quarter  for  a  drink. 

"What  on  earth  have  you  done  with  it?"  I  would 
ask. 

"  Into  the  mill  again ;  all  re-invested !  "  he  would  cry, 
with  infinite  delight.  Investment  was  ever  his  word. 
He  could  not  bear  what  he  called  gambling.  "Never 
touch  stocks,  Loudon,"  he  would  say;  "nothing  but 
legitimate  business."  And  yet,  Heaven  knows,  many 
an  indurated  gambler  might  have  drawn  back  appalled 
at  the  first  hint  of  some  of  Pinkerton's  investments! 
One,  which  I  succeeded  in  tracking  home,  and  instance 
for  a  specimen,  was  a  seventh  share  in  the  charter  of  a 
certain  ill-starred  schooner  bound  for  Mexico,  to  smug- 
gle weapons  on  the  one  trip,  and  cigars  upon  the  other. 
The  latter  end  of  this  enterprise,  involving  (as  it  did) 
shipwreck,  confiscation,  and  a  lawsuit  with  the  under- 
writers, was  too  painful  to  be  dwelt  upon  at  length. 
"It's  proved  a  disappointment,"  was  as  far  as  my  friend 
would  go  with  me  in  words ;  but  I  knew,  from  obser- 

115 


THE   WRECKER 

vation,  that  the  fabric  of  his  fortunes  tottered.  For  the 
rest,  it  was  only  by  accident  I  got  wind  of  the  trans- 
action ;  for  Pinkerton,  after  a  time,  was  shy  of  intro- 
ducing me  to  his  arcana:  the  reason  you  are  to  hear 
presently. 

The  office  which  was  (or  should  have  been)  the  point 
of  rest  for  so  many  evolving  dollars  stood  in  the  heart 
of  the  city :  a  high  and  spacious  room,  with  many  plate- 
glass  windows.  A  glazed  cabinet  of  polished  redwood 
offered  to  the  eye  a  regiment  of  some  two  hundred  bot- 
tles, conspicuously  labelled.  These  were  all  charged 
with  Pinkerton's  Thirteen  Star,  although  from  across 
the  room  it  would  have  required  an  expert  to  distin- 
guish them  from  the  same  number  of  bottles  of  Cour- 
voisier.  I  used  to  twit  my  friend  with  this  resemblance, 
and  propose  a  new  edition  of  the  pamphlet,  with  the 
title  thus  improved :  Why  Drink  French  Brandy,  when 
we  give  you  the  same  labels?  The  doors  of  the  cabinet 
revolved  all  day  upon  their  hinges;  and  if  there  entered 
any  one  who  was  a  stranger  to  the  merits  of  the  brand, 
he  departed  laden  with  a  bottle.  When  I  used  to  pro- 
test at  this  extravagance,  "My  dear  Loudon,"  Pinkerton 
would  cry,  "you  don't  seem  to  catch  on  to  business 
principles !  The  prime  cost  of  the  spirit  is  literally  noth- 
ing. I  couldn't  find  a  cheaper  advertisement  if  I  tried." 
Against  the  side  post  of  the  cabinet  there  leaned  a  gaudy 
umbrella,  preserved  there  as  a  relic.  It  appears  that 
when  Pinkerton  was  about  to  place  Thirteen  Star  upon 
the  market,  the  rainy  season  was  at  hand.  He  lay 
dark,  almost  in  penury,  awaiting  the  first  shower,  at 
which,  as  upon  a  signal,  the  main  thoroughfares  be- 
came dotted  with  his  agents,  vendors  of  advertisements; 

116 


IRONS  IN  THE   FIRE 

and  the  whole  world  of  San  Francisco,  from  the  busi- 
ness man  fleeing  for  the  ferry-boat,  to  the  lady  waiting 
at  the  corner  for  her  car,  sheltered  itself  under  umbrellas 
with  this  strange  device:  Are  you  wet?  Try  Thirteen 
Star.  "  It  was  a  mammoth  boom,"  said  Pinkerton, 
with  a  sigh  of  delighted  recollection.  "  There  wasn't 
another  umbrella  to  be  seen.  I  stood  at  this  window, 
Loudon,  feasting  my  eyes;  and  I  declare,  I  felt  like 
Vanderbilt."  And  it  was  to  this  neat  application  of  the 
local  climate  that  he  owed,  not  only  much  of  the  sale  of 
Thirteen  Star,  but  the  whole  business  of  his  advertising 
agency. 

The  large  desk  (to  resume  our  survey  of  the  office) 
stood  about  the  middle,  knee-deep  in  stacks  of  hand- 
bills and  posters,  of  Why  Drink  French  Brandy?  and 
The  Advertiser's  Vade-Mecum.  It  was  flanked  upon 
the  one  hand  by  two  female  type-writers,  who  rested 
not  between  the  hours  of  nine  and  four,  and  upon  the 
other  by  a  model  of  the  agricultural  machine.  The 
walls,  where  they  were  not  broken  by  telephone  boxes 
and  a  couple  of  photographs  —  one  representing  the 
wreck  of  the  James  L.  Moody  on  a  bold  and  broken 
coast,  the  other  the  Saturday  tug  alive  with  amateur 
fishers  —  almost  disappeared  under  oil-paintings  gaudily 
framed.  Many  of  these  were  relics  of  the  Latin  Quarter, 
and  I  must  do  Pinkerton  the  justice  to  say  that  none  of 
them  were  bad,  and  some  had  remarkable  merit.  They 
went  off  slowly  but  for  handsome  figures;  and  their 
places  were  progressively  supplied  with  the  work  of 
local  artists.  These  last  it  was  one  of  my  first  duties 
to  review  and  criticise.  Some  of  them  were  villainous, 
yet  all  were  saleable.     I  said  so;  and  the  next  moment 

117 


THE   WRECKER 

saw  myself,  the  figure  of  a  miserable  renegade,  bearing 
arms  in  the  wrong  camp.  I  was  to  look  at  pictures 
thenceforward,  not  with  the  eye  of  the  artist,  but  the 
dealer;  and  I  saw  the  stream  widen  that  divided  me 
from  all  I  loved. 

"Now,  Loudon,"  Pinkerton  had  said,  the  morning 
after  the  lecture,  "now  Loudon,  we  can  go  at  it  shoul- 
der to  shoulder.  This  is  what  I  have  longed  for:  I 
wanted  two  heads  and  four  arms;  and  now  I  have  'em. 
You'll  find  it's  just  the  same  as  art  —  all  observation  and 
imagination ;  only  more  movement.  Just  wait  till  you 
begin  to  feel  the  charm ! " 

I  might  have  waited  long.  Perhaps  I  lack  a  sense; 
for  our  whole  existence  seemed  to  me  one  dreary  bustle, 
and  the  place  we  bustled  in  fitly  to  be  called  the  Place 
of  Yawning.  I  slept  in  a  little  den  behind  the  office; 
Pinkerton,  in  the  office  itself,  stretched  on  a  patent  sofa 
which  sometimes  collapsed,  his  slumbers  still  further 
menaced  by  an  imminent  clock  with  an  alarm.  Roused 
by  this  diabolical  contrivance,  we  rose  early,  went  forth 
early  to  breakfast,  and  returned  by  nine  to  what  Pink- 
erton called  work,  and  I  distraction.  Masses  of  letters 
must  be  opened,  read,  and  answered;  some  by  me  at 
a  subsidiary  desk  which  had  been  introduced  on  the 
morning  of  my  arrival ;  others  by  my  bright-eyed  friend, 
pacing  the  room  like  a  caged  lion  as  he  dictated  to  the 
tinkling  type-writers.  Masses  of  wet  proof  had  to  be 
overhauled  and  scrawled  upon  with  a  blue  pencil  — 
* '  rustic  "  —  ' '  six-inch  caps  "  — ' '  bold  spacing  here  "  — 
or  sometimes  terms  more  fervid,  as  for  instance  this, 
which  I  remember  Pinkerton  to  have  spirted  on  the 
margin  of  an  advertisement  of  Soothing  Syrup:  "Throw 

1 18 


IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 

this  all  down.  Have  you  never  printed  an  advertise- 
ment ?  I'll  be  round  in  half  an  hour."  The  ledger  and 
sale-book,  besides,  we  had  always  with  us.  Such  was 
the  backbone  of  our  occupation,  and  tolerable  enough ; 
but  the  far  greater  proportion  of  our  time  was  consumed 
by  visitors,  whole-souled,  grand  fellows  no  doubt,  and 
as  sharp  as  a  needle,  but  to  me  unfortunately  not  divert- 
ing. Some  were  apparently  half-witted,  and  must  be 
talked  over  by  the  hour  before  they  could  reach  the 
humblest  decision,  which  they  only  left  the  office  to  re- 
turn again  (ten  minutes  later)  and  rescind.  Others  came 
with  a  vast  show  of  hurry  and  despatch,  but  I  observed 
it  to  be  principally  show.  The  agricultural  model  for 
instance,  which  was  practicable,  proved  a  kind  of  fly- 
paper for  these  busybodies.  I  have  seen  them  blankly 
turn  the  crank  of  it  for  five  minutes  at  a  time,  simulat- 
ing (to  nobody's  deception)  business  interest:  "Good 
thing  this,  Pinkerton  ?  Sell  much  of  it?  Ha!  Couldn't 
use  it,  I  suppose,  as  a  medium  of  advertisement  for  my 
article?"  —  which  was  perhaps  toilet  soap.  Others  (a 
still  worse  variety)  carried  us  to  neighbouring  saloons  to 
dice  for  cocktails  and  (after  the  cocktails  were  paid)  for 
dollars  on  a  corner  of  the  counter.  The  attraction  of 
dice  for  all  these  people  was  indeed  extraordinary :  at  a 
certain  club,  where  I  once  dined  in  the  character  of 
"my  partner,  Mr.  Dodd,"  the  dice-box  came  on  the 
table  with  the  wine,  an  artless  substitute  for  after-dinner 
wit. 

Of  all  our  visitors,  I  believe  I  preferred  Emperor  Nor- 
ton; the  very  mention  of  whose  name  reminds  me  I  am 
doing  scanty  justice  to  the  folks  of  San  Francisco.  In 
what  other  city  would  a  harmless  madman  who  sup- 

119 


THE   WRECKER 

posed  himself  emperor  of  the  two  Americas  have  been 
so  fostered  and  encouraged  ?  Where  else  would  even 
the  people  of  the  streets  have  respected  the  poor  soul's 
illusion  ?  Where  else  would  bankers  and  merchants  have 
received  his  visits,  cashed  his  cheques,  and  submitted 
to  his  small  assessments  ?  Where  else  would  he  have 
been  suffered  to  attend  and  address  the  exhibition  days 
of  schools  and  colleges  ?  where  else,  in  God's  green 
earth,  have  taken  his  pick  of  restaurants,  ransacked  the 
bill  of  fare,  and  departed  scathless  ?  They  tell  me  he 
was  even  an  exacting  patron,  threatening  to  withdraw 
his  custom  when  dissatisfied ;  and  I  can  believe  it,  for 
his  face  wore  an  expression  distinctly  gastronomical. 
Pinkerton  had  received  from  this  monarch  a  cabinet  ap- 
pointment; I  have  seen  the  brevet,  wondering  mainly 
at  the  good  nature  of  the  printer  who  had  executed  the 
forms,  and  I  think  my  friend  was  at  the  head  either 
of  foreign  affairs  or  education:  it  mattered,  indeed, 
nothing,  the  prestation  being  in  all  offices  identical.  It 
was  at  a  comparatively  early  date  that  I  saw  Jim  in  the 
exercise  of  his  public  functions.  His  Majesty  entered 
the  office  —  a  portly,  rather  flabby  man,  with  the  face 
of  a  gentleman,  rendered  unspeakably  pathetic  and  ab- 
surd by  the  great  sabre  at  his  side  and  the  peacock's 
feather  in  his  hat. 

"1  have  called  to  remind  you,  Mr.  Pinkerton,  that 
you  are  somewhat  in  arrear  of  taxes,"  he  said,  with  old- 
fashioned,  stately  courtesy. 

''Well,  Your  Majesty,  what  is  the  amount?"  asked 
Jim;  and  when  the  figure  was  named  (it  was  generally 
two  or  three  dollars),  paid  upon  the  nail  and  offered  a 
bonus  in  the  shape  of  Thirteen  Star. 


IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 

"I  am  always  delighted  to  patronise  native  indus- 
tries," said  Norton  the  First.  "  San  Francisco  is  public- 
spirited  in  what  concerns  its  Emperor;  and  indeed,  sir, 
of  all  my  domains,  it  is  my  favourite  city." 

"Come,"  said  I,  when  he  was  gone,  "I  prefer  that 
customer  to  the  lot." 

"  It's  really  rather  a  distinction,"  Jim  admitted.  "  I 
think  it  must  have  been  the  umbrella  racket  that  at- 
tracted him." 

We  were  distinguished  under  the  rose  by  the  notice 
of  other  and  greater  men.  There  were  days  when  Jim 
wore  an  air  of  unusual  capacity  and  resolve,  spoke  with 
more  brevity  like  one  pressed  for  time,  and  took  often 
on  his  tongue  such  phrases  as  "Longhurst  told  me  so 
this  morning,"  or  "I  had  it  straight  from  Longhurst 
himself."  It  was  no  wonder,  I  used  to  think,  that  Pink- 
erton  was  called  to  council  with  such  Titans;  for  the 
creature's  quickness  and  resource  were  beyond  praise. 
In  the  early  days  when  he  consulted  me  without  reserve, 
pacing  the  room,  projecting,  ciphering,  extending  hy- 
pothetical interests,  trebling  imaginary  capital,  his  "en- 
gine "  (to  renew  an  excellent  old  word)  labouring  full 
steam  ahead,  I  could  never  decide  whether  my  sense  of 
respect  or  entertainment  were  the  stronger.  But  these 
good  hours  were  destined  to  curtailment. 

"Yes,  it's  smart  enough,"  I  once  observed.  "But, 
Pinkerton,  do  you  think  it's  honest  ?  " 

"  You  don't  think  it's  honest!  "  he  wailed.  "  O  dear 
me,  that  ever  I  should  have  heard  such  an  expression  on 
your  lips! " 

At  sight  of  his  distress,  I  plagiarised  unblushingly 
from  Myner.     "  You  seem  to  think  honesty  as  simple  as 


THE  WRECKER 

Blind  Man's  Buff,"  said  I.  "  It's  a  more  delicate  affair 
than  that:  delicate  as  any  art." 

"  O  well!  at  that  rate!  "  he  exclaimed,  with  complete 
relief.     "That's  casuistry." 

"  I  am  perfectly  certain  of  one  thing:  that  what  you 
propose  is  dishonest,"  I  returned. 

"Well,  say  no  more  about  it.  That's  settled,"  he 
replied. 

Thus,  almost  at  a  word,  my  point  was  carried.  But 
the  trouble  was  that  such  differences  continued  to  recur, 
until  we  began  to  regard  each  other  with  alarm.  If 
there  were  one  thing  Pinkei  ton  valued  himself  upon,  it 
was  his  honesty;  if  there  were  one  thing  he  clung  to, 
it  was  my  good  opinion ;  and  when  both  were  involved, 
as  was  the  case  in  these  commercial  cruces,  the  man 
was  on  the  rack.  My  own  position,  if  you  consider 
how  much  I  owed  him,  how  hateful  is  the  trade  of 
fault-finder,  and  that  yet  I  lived  and  fattened  on  these 
questionable  operations,  was  perhaps  equally  distress- 
ing. If  I  had  been  more  sterling  or  more  combative 
things  might  have  gone  extremely  far.  But,  in  truth,  I 
was  just  base  enough  to  profit  by  what  was  not  forced 
on  my  attention,  rather  than  seek  scenes:  Pinkerton 
quite  cunning  enough  to  avail  himself  of  my  weakness ; 
and  it  was  a  relief  to  both  when  he  began  to  involve 
his  proceedings  in  a  decent  mystery. 

Our  last  dispute,  which  had  a  most  unlooked-for  con- 
sequence, turned  on  the  refitting  of  condemned  ships. 
He  had  bought  a  miserable  hulk,  and  came,  rubbing  his 
hands,  to  inform  me  she  was  already  on  the  slip,  under 
a  new  name,  to  be  repaired.  When  first  I  had  heard  of 
this  industry  I  suppose  I  scarcely  comprehended;  but 

122 


IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 

much  discussion  had  sharpened  my  faculties,  and  now 
my  brow  became  heavy. 

"  I  can  be  no  party  to  that,  Pinkerton,"  said  I. 

He  leaped  like  a  man  shot.  "What  next  ?  "  he  cried. 
"What  ails  you,  anyway  ?  You  seem  to  me  to  dislike 
everything  that's  profitable." 

"This  ship  has  been  condemned  by  Lloyd's  agent," 
said  I. 

"But  I  tell  you  it's  a  deal.  The  ship's  in  splendid 
condition;  there's  next  to  nothing  wrong  with  her  but 
the  garboard  streak  and  the  sternpost.  I  tell  you 
Lloyd's  is  a  ring  like  everybody  else;  only  it's  an  En- 
glish ring,  and  that's  what  deceives  you.  If  it  was 
American,  you  would  be  crying  it  down  all  day.  It's 
Anglomania,  common  Anglomania,"  he  cried,  with 
growing  irritation. 

"  I  will  not  make  money  by  risking  men's  lives,"  was 
my  ultimatum. 

"  Great  Caesar!  isn't  all  speculation  a  risk  ?  Isn't  the 
fairest  kind  of  shipowning  to  risk  men's  lives  ?  And 
mining  —  how's  that  for  risk  ?  And  look  at  the  elevator 
business  —  there's  danger,  if  you  like!  Didn't  I  take 
my  risk  when  I  bought  her  ?  She  might  have  been  too 
far  gone;  and  where  would  I  have  been?  Loudon," 
he  cried,  "I  tell  you  the  truth:  you're  too  full  of  refine- 
ment for  this  world! " 

"I  condemn  you  out  of  your  own  lips,"  I  replied. 
"'The  fairest  kind  of  shipowning,'  says  you.  If 
you  please,  let  us  only  do  the  fairest  kind  of  busi- 
ness." 

The  shot  told,  the  Irrepressible  was  silenced;  and  I 
profited  by  the  chance,  to  pour  in  a  broadside  of  an- 

123 


THE   WRECKER 

other  sort.  He  was  all  sunk  in  money-getting,  I  pointed 
out;  he  never  dreamed  of  anything  but  dollars.  Where 
were  all  his  generous,  progressive  sentiments  ?  Where 
was  his  culture  ?  I  asked.  And  where  was  the  Ameri- 
can Type  ? 

"It's  true,  Loudon,"  he  cried,  striding  up  and  down 
the  room,  and  wildly  scouring  at  his  hair.  "You're 
perfectly  right.  I'm  becoming  materialised.  O,  what 
a  thing  to  have  to  say,  what  a  confession  to  make! 
Materialised !  Me !  Loudon,  this  must  go  on  no  longer. 
You've  been  a  loyal  friend  to  me  once  more;  give  me 
your  hand !  —  you've  saved  me  again.  I  must  do  some- 
thing to  rouse  the  spiritual  side:  something  desperate; 
study  something,  something  dry  and  tough.  What 
shall  it  be  ?    Theology  ?    Algebra  ?    What's  Algebra  ?  " 

1 '  It's  dry  and  tough  enough, "  said  I ;  "a?  -f  2ab  +  b2." 

"It's  stimulating,  though?"  he  inquired. 

I  told  him  I  believed  so,  and  that  it  was  considered 
fortifying  to  Types. 

"  Then,  that's  the  thing  for  me.  I'll  study  Algebra," 
he  concluded. 

The  next  day,  by  application  to  one  of  his  type- writing 
women,  he  got  word  of  a  young  lady,  one  Miss  Mamie 
McBride,  who  was  willing  and  able  to  conduct  him  in 
these  bloomless meadows;  and,  her  circumstances  being 
lean,  and  terms  consequently  moderate,  he  and  Mamie 
were  soon  in  agreement  for  two  lessons  in  the  week. 
He  took  fire  with  unexampled  rapidity ;  he  seemed  un- 
able to  tear  himself  away  from  the  symbolic  art;  an 
hour's  lesson  occupied  the  whole  evening;  and  the 
original  two  was  soon  increased  to  four,  and  then  to 
five.      I  bade  him  beware  of  female   blandishments. 

124 


IRONS  IN  THE   FIRE 

"The  first  thing  you  know,  you'll  be  falling  in  love 
with  the  algebraist,"  said  I. 

M Don't  say  it  even  in  jest,"  he  cried.  "She's  a  lady 
I  revere.  I  could  no  more  lay  a  hand  upon  her  than 
I  could  upon  a  spirit.  Loudon,  I  don't  believe  God  ever 
made  a  purer-minded  woman." 

Which  appeared  to  me  too  fervent  to  be  reassuring. 

Meanwhile  I  had  been  long  expostulating  with  my 
friend  upon  a  different  matter.  "  I'm  the  fifth  wheel," 
I  kept  telling  him.  "  For  any  use  I  am,  I  might  as  well 
be  in  Senegambia.  The  letters  you  give  me  to  attend 
to  might  be  answered  by  a  sucking  child.  And  I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  Pinkerton :  either  you've  got  to  find  me 
some  employment,  or  I'll  have  to  start  in  and  find  it  for 
myself." 

This  I  said  with  a  corner  of  my  eye  in  the  usual  quar- 
ter, toward  the  arts,  little  dreaming  what  destiny  was 
to  provide. 

"I've  got  it,  Loudon,"  Pinkerton  at  last  replied. 
"  Got  the  idea  on  the  Potrero  cars.  Found  I  hadn't  a 
pencil,  borrowed  one  from  the  conductor,  and  figured 
on  it  roughly  all  the  way  in  town.  I  saw  it  was  the 
thing  at  last;  gives  you  a  real  show.  All  your  talents 
and  accomplishments  come  in.  Here's  a  sketch  adver- 
tisement. Just  run  your  eye  over  it.  '  Sun,  0%onef 
and  Music!  PINKERTON'S  HEBDOMADARY  PIC- 
NICS!' (That's  a  good,  catching  phrase,  'hebdoma- 
dary,'  though  it's  hard  to  say.  I  made  a  note  of  it  when 
I  was  looking  in  the  dictionary  how  to  spell  hectagonal. 
'Well,  you're  a  boss  word,'  I  said.  'Before  you're 
very  much  older,  I'll  have  you  in  type  as  long  as  your- 
self.'    And  here  it  is,  you  see.)     'Five  dollars  a  head, 

125 


THE   WRECKER 

and  ladies  free.  Monster  Olio  of  Attractions.' 
(How  does  that  strike  you  ?)  '  Free  luncheon  under 
the  greenwood  tree.  Dance  on  the  elastic  sward.  Home 
again  in  the  Bright  Evening  Hours.  Manager  and 
Honorary  Steward,  H.  Loudon  Dodd,  Esq.,  the  well- 
known  connoisseur. 

Singular  how  a  man  runs  from  Scylla  to  Charybdis! 
I  was  so  intent  on  securing  the  disappearance  of  a  single 
epithet  that  I  accepted  the  rest  of  the  advertisement  and 
all  that  it  involved  without  discussion.  So  it  befell  that 
the  words  "well-known  connoisseur"  were  deleted; 
but  that  H.  Loudon  Dodd  became  manager  and  honor- 
ary steward  of  Pinkerton's  Hebdomadary  Picnics,  soon 
shortened,  by  popular  consent,  to  the  Dromedary. 

By  eight  o'clock,  any  Sunday  morning,  I  was  to  be 
observed  by  an  admiring  public  on  the  wharf.  The 
garb  and  attributes  of  sacrifice  consisted  of  a  black  frock 
coat,  rosetted,  its  pockets  bulging  with  sweetmeats  and 
inferior  cigars,  trousers  of  light  blue,  a  silk  hat  like  a 
reflector,  and  a  varnished  wand.  A  goodly  steamer 
guarded  my  one  flank,  panting  and  throbbing,  flags  flut- 
tering fore  and  aft  of  her,  illustrative  of  the  Dromedary 
and  patriotism.  My  other  flank  was  covered  by  the 
ticket-office,  strongly  held  by  a  trusty  character  of  the 
Scots  persuasion,  rosetted  like  his  superior  and  smok- 
ing a  cigar  to  mark  the  occasion  festive.  At  half-past, 
having  assured  myself  that  all  was  well  with  the  free 
luncheons,  I  lit  a  cigar  myself,  and  awaited  the  strains 
of  the  "Pioneer  Band."  I  had  never  to  wait  long — 
they  were  German  and  punctual  —  and  by  a  few  min- 
utes after  the  half-hour,  I  would  hear  them  booming 
down  street  with  a  long  military  roll  of  drums,  some 

126 


IRONS   IN  THE   FIRE 

score  of  gratuitous  asses  prancing  at  the  head  in  bear- 
skin hats  and  buckskin  aprons,  and  conspicuous  with 
resplendent  axes.  The  band,  of  course,  we  paid  for;- 
but  so  strong  is  the  San  Franciscan  passion  for  public 
masquerade,  that  the  asses  (as  I  say)  were  all  gratuitous, 
pranced  for  the  love  of  it,  and  cost  us  nothing  but  their 
luncheon. 

The  musicians  formed  up  in  the  bows  of  my  steamer, 
and  struck  into  a  skittish  polka;  the  asses  mounted 
guard  upon  the  gangway  and  the  ticket-office;  and 
presently  after,  in  family  parties  of  father,  mother,  and 
children,  in  the  form  of  duplicate  lovers  or  in  that  of 
solitary  youth,  the  public  began  to  descend  upon  us  by 
the  earful  at  a  time ;  four  to  six  hundred  perhaps,  with 
a  strong  German  flavour,  and  all  merry  as  children. 
When  these  had  been  shepherded  on  board,  and  the  in- 
evitable belated  two  or  three  had  gained  the  deck  amidst 
the  cheering  of  the  public,  the  hawser  was  cast  off,  and 
we  plunged  into  the  bay. 

And  now  behold  the  honorary  steward  in  the  hour  of 
duty  and  glory :  see  me  circulate  amid  the  crowd,  radi- 
ating affability  and  laughter,  liberal  with  my  sweetmeats 
and  cigars.  I  say  unblushing  things  to  hobbledehoy 
girls,  tell  shy  young  persons  this  is  the  married  peoples' 
boat,  roguishly  ask  the  abstracted  if  they  are  think- 
ing of  their  sweethearts,  offer  Paterfamilias  a  cigar,  am 
struck  with  the  beauty  and  grow  curious  about  the  age 
of  mamma's  youngest  who  (I  assure  her  gaily)  will  be 
a  man  before  his  mother;  or  perhaps  it  may  occur  to 
me,  from  the  sensible  expression  of  her  face,  that  she  is 
a  person  of  good  counsel,  and  I  ask  her  earnestly  if  she 
knows  any  particularly  pleasant  place  on  the  Saucelito 

127 


THE  WRECKER 

or  San  Rafael  coast,  for  the  scene  of  our  picnic  is  always 
supposed  to  be  uncertain.  The  next  moment  I  am  back 
at  my  giddy  badinage  with  the  young  ladies,  wakening 
laughter  as  I  go,  and  leaving  in  my  wake  applausive 
comments  of  "Isn't  Mr.  Dodd  a  funny  gentleman?" 
and  "  O,  I  think  he's  just  too  nice!  " 

An  hour  having  passed  in  this  airy  manner,  I  start 
upon  my  rounds  afresh,  with  a  bag  full  of  coloured 
tickets,  all  with  pins  attached,  and  all  with  legible  in- 
scriptions :  ' '  Old  Germany, "  ' '  California, "  ' '  True  Love, " 
"Old  Fogies,"  "  La  Belle  France,"  "Green  Erin,"  "The 
Land  of  Cakes,"  "Washington,"  "Blue  Jay,"  "Robin 
Red-Breast, " —  twenty  of  each  denomination ;  for  when 
it  comes  to  the  luncheon,  we  sit  down  by  twenties. 
These  are  distributed  with  anxious  tact  —  for  indeed  this 
is  the  most  delicate  part  of  my  functions — but  out- 
wardly with  reckless  unconcern,  amidst  the  gayest  flut- 
ter and  confusion;  and  are  immediately  after  sported 
upon  hats  and  bonnets,  to  the  extreme  diffusion  of  cor- 
diality, total  strangers  hailing  each  other  by  "the  num- 
ber of  their  mess" — so  we  humorously  name  it  —  and 
the  deck  ringing  with  cries  of,  "Here,  all  Blue  Jays  to 
the  rescue!  "  or,  "I  say,  am  I  alone  in  this  blame'  ship? 
Ain't  there  no  more  Californians  ?  " 

By  this  time  we  are  drawing  near  to  the  appointed 
spot.  I  mount  upon  the  bridge,  the  observed  of  all  ob- 
servers. 

"Captain,"  I  say,  in  clear,  emphatic  tones,  heard 
far  and  wide,  "the  majority  of  the  company  appear 
to  be  in  favour  of  the  little  cove  beyond  One  Tree 
Point." 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Dodd,"  responds  the  captain,  heartily; 

128 


IRONS   IN  THE   FIRE 

"all  one  to  me.  I  am  not  exactly  sure  of  the  place  you 
mean;  but  just  you  stay  here  and  pilot  me." 

I  do,  pointing  with  my  wand.  I  do  pilot  him,  to  the 
inexpressible  entertainment  of  the  picnic ;  for  I  am  (why 
should  I  deny  it  ?)  the  popular  man.  We  slow  down 
off  the  mouth  of  a  grassy  valley,  watered  by  a  brook, 
and  set  in  pines  and  redwoods.  The  anchor  is  let  go; 
the  boats  are  lowered,  two  of  them  already  packed  with 
the  materials  of  an  impromptu  bar;  and  the  Pioneer 
Band,  accompanied  by  the  resplendent  asses,  fill  the 
other,  and  move  shoreward  to  the  inviting  strains  of 
Buffalo  Gals,  won't  you  come  out  to-night?  It  is  a  part 
of  our  programme  that  one  of  the  asses  shall,  from  sheef 
clumsiness,  in  the  course  of  this  embarkation,  drop  a 
dummy  axe  into  the  water:  whereupon  the  mirth  of 
the  picnic  can  hardly  be  assuaged.  Upon  one  occasion, 
the  dummy  axe  floated,  and  the  laugh  turned  rather  the 
wrong  way. 

In  from  ten  to  twenty  minutes  the  boats  are  along- 
side again,  the  messes  are  marshalled  separately  on  the 
deck,  and  the  picnic  goes  ashore,  to  find  the  band  and 
the  impromptu  bar  awaiting  them.  Then  come  the 
hampers,  which  are  piled  upon  the  beach,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  stern  guard  of  stalwart  asses,  axe  on 
shoulder.  It  is  here  I  take  my  place,  note-book  in  hand, 
under  a  banner  bearing  the  legend,  "Come  here  for 
hampers. "  Each  hamper  contains  a  complete  outfit  for  a 
separate  twenty,  cold  provender,  plates,  glasses,  knives, 
forks,  and  spoons:  an  agonised  printed  appeal  from  the 
fevered  pen  of  Pinkerton,  pasted  on  the  inside  of  the  lid, 
beseeches  that  care  be  taken  of  the  glass  and  silver. 
Beer,  wine,  and  lemonade  are  flowing  already  from  the 

129 


THE  WRECKER 

bar,  and  the  various  clans  of  twenty  file  away  into  the 
woods,  with  bottles  under  their  arms,  and  the  hampers 
strung  upon  a  stick.  Till  one  they  feast  there,  in  a  very 
moderate  seclusion,  all  being  within  earshot  of  the  band. 
From  one  till  four,  dancing  takes  place  upon  the  grass ; 
the  bar  does  a  roaring  business,  and  the  honorary 
steward,  who  has  already  exhausted  himself  to  bring 
life  into  the  dullest  of  the  messes,  must  now  indefati- 
gably  dance  with  the  plainest  of  the  women.  At  four  a 
bugle-call  is  sounded;  and  by  half-past  behold  us  on 
board  again,  pioneers,  corrugated  iron  bar,  empty  bot- 
tles, and  all;  while  the  honorary  steward,  free  at  last, 
subsides  into  the  captain's  cabin  over  a  brandy  and  soda 
and  a  book.  Free  at  last,  I  say,  yet  there  remains  before 
him  the  frantic  leave-takings  at  the  pier,  and  a  sober 
journey  up  to  Pinkerton's  office  with  two  policemen 
and  the  day's  takings  in  a  bag. 

What  I  have  here  sketched  was  the  routine.  But  we 
appealed  to  the  taste  of  San  Francisco  more  distinctly 
in  particular  fetes.  "Ye  Olde  Time  Pycke-Nycke, " 
largely  advertised  in  hand-bills  beginning  "Oyez, 
Oyez!  "  and  largely  frequented  by  knights,  monks,  and 
cavaliers,  was  drowned  out  by  unseasonable  rain,  and 
returned  to  the  city  one  of  the  saddest  spectacles  I  ever 
remember  to  have  witnessed.  In  pleasing  contrast,  and 
certainly  our  chief  success,  was  "The  Gathering  of  the 
Clans,"  or  Scottish  picnic.  So  many  milk-white  knees 
were  never  before  simultaneously  exhibited  in  public, 
and  to  judge  by  the  prevalence  of  "  Royal  Stewart "  and 
the  number  of  eagle's  feathers,  we  were  a  high-born 
company.  I  threw  forward  the  Scottish  flank  of  my 
own  ancestry,  and  passed  muster  as  a  clansman  with  ap- 

130 


IRONS  IN   THE   FIRE 

plause.  There  was,  indeed,  but  one  small  cloud  on  this 
red-letter  day.  I  had  laid  in  a  large  supply  of  the  na- 
tional beverage,  in  the  shape  of  The  "  Rob  Roy  Mac- 
Gregor  O  "  Blend,  Warranted  Old  and  Vatted;  and 
this  must  certainly  have  been  a  generous  spirit,  for  I  had 
some  anxious  work  between  four  and  half-past,  convey- 
ing on  board  the  inanimate  forms  of  chieftains. 

To  one  of  our  ordinary  festivities,  where  he  was  the 
life  and  soul  of  his  own  mess,  Pinkerton  himself  came 
incognito,  bringing  the  algebraist  on  his  arm.  Miss 
Mamie  proved  to  be  a  well-enough-looking  mouse, 
with  a  large,  limpid  eye,  very  good  manners,  and  a  flow 
of  the  most  correct  expressions  I  have  ever  heard  upon 
the  human  lip.  As  Pinkerton's  incognito  was  strict,  I 
had  little  opportunity  to  cultivate  the  lady's  acquain- 
tance ;  but  I  was  informed  afterwards  that  she  consid- 
ered me  "the  wittiest  gentleman  she  had  ever  met." 
"  The  Lord  mend  your  taste  in  wit!  "  thought  I;  but  I 
cannot  conceal  that  such  was  the  general  impression. 
One  of  my  pleasantries  even  went  the  round  of  San 
Francisco,  and  I  have  heard  it  (myself  all  unknown) 
bandied  in  saloons.  To  be  unknown  began  at  last  to 
be  a  rare  experience:  a  bustle  woke  upon  my  passage; 
above  all,  in  humble  neighbourhoods.  ' '  Who's  that  ?  " 
one  would  ask,  and  the  other  would  cry,  "That!  Why, 
Dromedary  Dodd!"  or  with  withering  scorn,  "Not 
know  Mr.  Dodd  of  the  Picnics?  Well!"  and  indeed 
I  think  it  marked  a  rather  barren  destiny ;  for  our  pic- 
nics, if  a  trifle  vulgar,  were  as  gay  and  innocent  as  the 
age  of  gold ;  I  am  sure  no  people  divert  themselves  so 
easily  and  so  well:  and  even  with  the  cares  of  my 
stewardship,  I  was  often  happy  to  be  there. 

131 


THE  WRECKER 

Indeed,  there  were  but  two  drawbacks  in  the  least 
considerable.  The  first  was  my  terror  of  the  hobblede- 
hoy girls,  to  whom  (from  the  demands  of  my  situation) 
I  was  obliged  to  lay  myself  so  open.  The  other,  if  less 
momentous,  was  more  mortifying.  In  early  days,  at  my 
mother's  knee,  as  a  man  may  say,  I  had  acquired  the 
unenviable  accomplishment  (which  I  have  never  since 
been  able  to  lose)  of  singing  Just  before  the  Battle.  I 
have  what  the  French  call  a  fillet  of  voice,  my  best 
notes  scarce  audible  about  a  dinner-table,  and  the  upper 
register  rather  to  be  regarded  as  a  higher  power  of 
silence:  experts  tell  me  besides  that  I  sing  flat;  nor,  if  I 
were  the  best  singer  in  the  world,  does  Just  before  the 
Battle  occur  to  my  mature  taste  as  the  song  that  I  would 
choose  to  sing.  In  spite  of  all  which  considerations,  at 
one  picnic,  memorably  dull,  and  after  I  had  exhausted 
every  other  art  of  pleasing,  I  gave,  in  desperation,  my 
one  song.  From  that  hour  my  doom  was  gone  forth. 
Either  we  had  a  chronic  passenger  (though  I  could  never 
detect  him),  or  the  very  wood  and  iron  of  the  steamer 
must  have  retained  the  tradition.  At  every  successive 
picnic  word  went  round  that  Mr.  Dodd  was  a  singer; 
that  Mr.  Dodd  sang  Just  hefore  the  Battle,  and  finally 
that  now  was  the  time  when  Mr.  Dodd  sang  Just  before 
the  Battle;  so  that  the  thing  became  a  fixture  like  the 
dropping  of  the  dummy  axe,  and  you  are  to  conceive 
me,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  piping  up  my  lamentable 
ditty  and  covered,  when  it  was  done,  with  gratuitous 
applause.  It  is  a  beautiful  trait  in  human  nature  that  I 
was  invariably  offered  an  encore. 

I  was  well  paid,  however,  even  to  sing.  Pinkerton 
and  I,  after  an  average  Sunday,  had  five  hundred  dollars 

132 


IRONS   IN   THE    FIRE 

to  divide.  Nay,  and  the  picnics  were  the  means,  al- 
though indirectly,  of  bringing  me  a  singular  windfall. 
This  was  at  the  end  of  the  season,  after  the  "Grand 
Farewell  Fancy  Dress  Gala."  Many  of  the  hampers  had 
suffered  severely;  and  it  was  judged  wiser  to  save 
storage,  dispose  of  them,  and  lay  in  a  fresh  stock  when 
the  campaign  re-opened.  Among  my  purchasers  was  n 
workingman  of  the  name  of  Speedy,  to  whose  house, 
after  several  unavailing  letters,  I  must  proceed  in  person, 
wondering  to  find  myself  once  again  on  the  wrong  side, 
and  playing  creditor  to  some  one  else's  debtor.  Speedy 
was  in  the  belligerent  stage  of  fear.  He  could  not  pay. 
It  appeared  he  had  already  resold  the  hampers,  and  he 
defied  me  to  do  my  worst.  I  did  not  like  to  lose  my 
own  money;  I  hated  to  lose  Pinkerton's;  and  the  bear- 
ing of  my  creditor  incensed  me. 

"Do  you  know,  Mr.  Speedy,  that  I  can  send  you 
to  the  penitentiary?"  said  I,  willing  to  read  him  a 
lesson. 

The  dire  expression  was  overheard  in  the  next  room. 
A  large,  fresh,  motherly  Irishwoman  ran  forth  upon  the 
instant,  and  fell  to  besiege  me  with  caresses  and  appeals. 
"Sure  now,  and  ye  couldn't  have  the  heart  to  ut,  Mr. 
Dodd,  you,  that's  so  well  known  to  be  a  pleasant  gen- 
tleman ;  and  it's  a  pleasant  face  ye  have,  and  the  picture 
of  me  own  brother  that's  dead  and  gone.  It's  a  truth 
that  he's  been  drinking.  Ye  can  smell  it  off  of  him, 
more  blame  to  him.  But,  indade,  and  there's  nothing 
in  the  house  beyont  the  furnicher,  and  Thim  Stock.  It's 
the  stock  that  ye'll  be  taking,  dear.  A  sore  penny  it  has 
cost  me,  first  and  last,  and  by  all  tales,  not  worth  an 
owld  tobacco  pipe."    Thus  adjured,  and  somewhat  em- 

133 


THE  WRECKER 

barrassed  by  the  stern  attitude  I  had  adopted,  I  suffered 
myself  to  be  invested  with  a  considerable  quantity  of 
what  is  called  wild-cat  stock,  in  which  this  excellent 
if  illogical  female  had  been  squandering  her  hard-earned 
gold.  It  could  scarce  be  said  to  better  my  position,  but 
the  step  quieted  the  woman;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  I 
could  not  think  I  was  taking  much  risk,  for  the  shares 
in  question  (they  were  those  of  what  I  will  call  the 
Catamount  Silver  Mine)  had  fallen  some  time  before  to 
the  bed-rock  quotation,  and  now  lay  perfectly  inert,  or 
were  only  kicked  (like  other  waste  paper)  about  the 
kennel  of  the  exchange  by  bankrupt  speculators. 

A  month  or  two  after,  I  perceived  by  the  stock-list 
that  Catamount  had  taken  a  bound ;  before  afternoon, 
"thim  stock"  were  worth  a  quite  considerable  pot  of 
money;  and  I  learned,  upon  inquiry,  that  a  bonanza 
had  been  found  in  a  condemned  lead,  and  the  mine 
was  now  expected  to  do  wonders.  Remarkable  to 
philosophers  how  bonanzas  are  found  in  condemned 
leads,  and  how  the  stock  is  always  at  freezing-point 
immediately  before!  By  some  stroke  of  chance,  the 
Speedys  had  held  on  to  the  right  thing;  they  had  es- 
caped the  syndicate;  yet  a  little  more,  if  I  had  not  come 
to  dun  them,  and  Mrs.  Speedy  would  have  been  buy- 
ing a  silk  dress.  I  could  not  bear,  of  course,  to  profit 
by  the  accident,  and  returned  to  offer  restitution.  The 
house  was  in  a  bustle;  the  neighbours  (all  stock-gam- 
blers themselves)  had  crowded  to  condole;  and  Mrs. 
Speedy  sat  with  streaming  tears,  the  centre  of  a  sym- 
pathetic group.  "  For  fifteen  year,  I've  been  at  ut,"  she 
was  lamenting,  as  I  entered,  "and  grudging  the  babes 
the  very  milk,  more  shame  to  me!  to  pay  their  dhirty 

«34 


IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 

assessments.  And  now,  my  dears,  I  should  be  a  lady, 
and  driving  in  my  coach,  if  all  had  their  rights;  and  a 
sorrow  on  that  man,  Dodd!  As  soon  as  I  set  eyes  on 
him,  I  seen  the  divil  was  in  the  house." 

It  was  upon  these  words  that  I  made  my  entrance, 
which  was  therefore  dramatic  enough,  though  nothing 
to  what  followed.  For  when  it  appeared  that  I  was 
come  to  restore  the  lost  fortune,  and  when  Mrs.  Speedy 
(after  copiously  weeping  on  my  bosom)  had  refused  the 
restitution,  and  when  Mr.  Speedy  (summoned  to  that 
end  from  a  camp  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic) 
had  added  his  refusal,  and  when  I  had  insisted,  and  they 
had  insisted,  and  the  neighbours  had  applauded  and 
supported  each  of  us  in  turn ;  and  when  at  last  it  was 
agreed  we  were  to  hold  the  stock  together,  and  share 
the  proceeds  in  three  parts  —  one  for  me,  one  for  Mr. 
Speedy,  and  one  for  his  spouse  —  I  will  leave  you  to 
conceive  the  enthusiasm  that  reigned  in  that  small,  bare 
apartment,  with  the  sewing-machine  in  the  one  corner, 
and  the  babes  asleep  in  the  other,  and  pictures  of  Gar- 
field and  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg  on  the  yellow  walls. 
Port  wine  was  had  in  by  a  sympathiser,  and  we  drank 
it  mingled  with  tears. 

"And  I  dhrink  to  your  health,  my  dear,"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Speedy,  especially  affected  by  my  gallantry  in  the 
matter  of  the  third  share;  " and  I'm  sure  we  all  dhrink 
to  his  health  —  Mr.  Dodd  of  the  picnics,  no  gentleman 
better  known  than  him ;  and  it's  my  prayer,  dear,  the 
good  God  may  be  long  spared  to  see  ye  in  health  and 
happiness! " 

In  the  end  I  was  the  chief  gainer;  for  I  sold  my  third 
while   it  was  worth   five  thousand   dollars,   but  the 

135 


THE  WRECKER 

Speedys  more  adventurously  held  on  until  the  syndicate 
reversed  the  process,  when  they  were  happy  to  escape 
with  perhaps  a  quarter  of  that  sum.  It  was  just  as 
well;  for  the  bulk  of  the  money  was  (in  Pinkerton's 
phrase)  reinvested ;  and  when  next  I  saw  Mrs.  Speedy, 
she  was  still  gorgeously  dressed  from  the  proceeds  of 
the  late  success,  but  was  already  moist  with  tears  over 
the  new  catastrophe.  "We're  froze  out,  me  darlin'! 
All  the  money  we  had,  dear,  and  the  sewing-machine, 
and  Jim's  uniform,  was  in  the  Golden  West;  and  the 
vipers  has  put  on  a  new  assessment." 

By  the  end  of  the  year,  therefore,  this  is  how  I  stood. 
I  had  made 

By  Catamount  Silver  Mine $5,000 

By  the  picnics 3,000 

By  the  lecture 600 

By  profit  and  loss  on  capital  in  Pinkerton's  business      .  1,350 

to  which  must  be  added  $9»95<> 

What  remained  of  my  grandfather's  donation       .         .        8,500 

It  appears,  on  the  other  hand,  that  $'8,450 

I  had  spent 4,000 

Which  thus  left  me  to  the  good '$14,450 

A  result  on  which  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  I  looked  with 
gratitude  and  pride.  Some  eight  thousand  (being  late 
conquest)  was  liquid  and  actually  tractile  in  the  bank; 
the  rest  whirled  beyond  reach  and  even  sight  (save  in 
the  mirror  of  a  balance-sheet)  under  the  compelling  spell 
of  wizard  Pinkerton.  Dollars  of  mine  were  tacking  off 
the  shores  of  Mexico,  in  peril  of  the  deep  and  the  guarda- 

136 


IRONS   IN   THE   FIRE 

costas ;  they  rang  on  saloon-counters  in  the  city  of  Tomb- 
stone, Arizona;  they  shone  in  faro-tents  among  the  moun- 
tain diggings :  the  imagination  flagged  in  following  them, 
so  wide  were  they  diffused,  so  briskly  they  span  to  the 
turning  of  the  wizard's  crank.  But  here,  there,  or  every- 
where I  could  still  tell  myself  it  was  all  mine,  and  what 
was  more  convincing,  draw  substantial  dividends.  My 
fortune,  I  called  it ;  and  it  represented,  when  expressed 
in  dollars  or  even  British  pounds,  an  honest  pot  of  money ; 
when  extended  into  francs,  a  veritable  fortune.  Perhaps 
I  have  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag;  perhaps  you  see  already 
where  my  hopes  were  pointing,  and  begin  to  blame  my 
inconsistency.  But  I  must  first  tell  you  my  excuse,  and 
the  change  that  had  befallen  Pinkerton. 

About  a  week  after  the  picnic  to  which  he  escorted 
Mamie,  Pinkerton  avowed  the  state  of  his  affections. 
From  what  I  had  observed  on  board  the  steamer,  where 
methought  Mamie  waited  on  him  with  her  limpid  eyes, 
I  encouraged  the  bashful  lover  to  proceed ;  and  the  very 
next  evening  he  was  carrying  me  to  call  on  his  affianced. 

"You  must  befriend  her,  Loudon,  as  you  have  always 
befriended  me,"  he  said,  pathetically. 

"  By  saying  disagreeable  things  ?  I  doubt  if  that  be 
the  way  to  a  young  lady's  favour,"  I  replied;  "and 
since  this  picnicking  I  begin  to  be  a  man  of  some  ex- 
perience." 

"  Yes,  you  do  nobly  there;  I  can't  describe  how  I  ad- 
mire you,"  he  cried.  "Not  that  she  will  ever  need  it; 
she  has  had  every  advantage.  God  knows  what  I  have 
done  to  deserve  her.  O  man,  what  a  responsibility  this 
is  for  a  rough  fellow  and  not  always  truthful ! " 

"  Brace  up,  old  man,  brace  up!  "  said  I. 
«37 


THE  WRECKER 

But  when  we  reached  Mamie's  boarding-house,  it  was 
almost  with  tears  that  he  presented  me.  "  Here  is  Lou- 
don, Mamie,"  were  his  words.  "I  want  you  to  love 
him;  he  has  a  grand  nature." 

"You  are  certainly  no  stranger  to  me,  Mr.  Dodd," 
was  her  gracious  expression.  "James  is  never  weary 
of  descanting  on  your  goodness." 

"  My  dear  lady,"  said  I,  "  when  you  know  our  friend 
a  little  better,  you  will  make  a  large  allowance  for  his 
warm  heart.  My  goodness  has  consisted  in  allowing 
him  to  feed  and  clothe  and  toil  for  me  when  he  could 
ill  afford  it.  If  !  am  now  alive,  it  is  to  him  I  owe  it; 
no  man  had  a  kinder  friend.  You  must  take  good  care 
of  him,"  I  added,  laying  my  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
"and  keep  him  in  good  order,  for  he  needs  it." 

Pinkerton  was  much  affected  by  this  speech,  and  so, 
I  fear,  was  Mamie.  I  admit  it  was  a  tactless  perform^ 
ance.  "When  you  know  our  friend  a  little  better," 
was  not  happily  said,  and  even  "keep  him  in  good 
order,  for  he  needs  it "  might  be  construed  into  matter 
of  offence ;  but  I  lay  it  before  you  in  all  confidence  of 
your  acquittal:  was  the  general  tone  of  it  "patronis- 
ing "  ?  Even  if  such  was  the  verdict  of  the  lady,  I  can- 
not but  suppose  the  blame  was  neither  wholly  hers  nor 
wholly  mine;  I  cannot  but  suppose  that  Pinkerton  had 
already  sickened  the  poor  woman  of  my  very  name,  so 
that  if  I  had  come  with  the  songs  of  Apollo,  she  must 
still  have  been  disgusted. 

Here,  however,  were  two  finger-posts  to  Paris.  Jim 
was  going  to  be  married,  and  so  had  the  less  need  of 
my  society.  I  had  not  pleased  his  bride,  and  so  was, 
perhaps,  better  absent.     Late  one  evening  I  broached 

138 


IRONS  IN   THE   FIRE 

the  idea  to  my  friend.  It  had  been  a  great  day  for  me ; 
I  had  just  banked  my  five  thousand  catamountain  dol- 
lars ;  and  as  Jim  had  refused  to  lay  a  finger  on  the  stock, 
risk  and  profit  were  both  wholly  mine,  and  I  was  cele- 
brating the  event  with  stout  and  crackers.  I  began  by 
telling  him  that  if  it  caused  him  any  pain  or  any  anxiety 
about  his  affairs,  he  had  but  to  say  the  word,  and  he 
should  hear  no  more  of  my  proposal.  He  was  the  truest 
and  best  friend  I  ever  had  or  was  ever  like  to  have; 
and  it  would  be  a  strange  thing  if  I  refused  him  any 
favour  he  was  sure  he  wanted.  At  the  same  time  I 
wished  him  to  be  sure;  for  my  life  was  wasting  in  my 
hands.  I  was  like  one  from  home ;  all  my  true  inter- 
ests summoned  me  away.  I  must  remind  him,  be- 
sides, that  he  was  now  about  to  marry  and  assume  new 
interests,  and  that  our  extreme  familiarity  might  be  even 
painful  to  his  wife. — "O  no,  Loudon,  I  feel  you  are 
wrong  there,"  he  interjected  warmly,  "she  does  appre- 
ciate your  nature."  —  So  much  the  better,  then,  I  con- 
tinued; and  went  on  to  point  out  that  our  separation 
need  not  be  for  long;  that,  in  the  way  affairs  were 
going,  he  might  join  me  in  two  years  with  a  fortune, 
small,  indeed,  for  the  States,  but  in  France  almost  con- 
spicuous; that  we  might  unite  our  resources,  and  have 
one  house  in  Paris  for  the  winter  and  a  second  near  Fon- 
tainebleau  for  summer,  where  we  could  be  as  happy  as 
the  day  was  long,  and  bring  up  little  Pinkertons  as  prac- 
tical, artistic  workmen,  far  from  the  money-hunger  of 
the  West.  "  Let  me  go  then,"  I  concluded;  "not  as  a 
deserter,  but  as  the  vanguard,  to  lead  the  march  of  the 
Pinkerton  men." 
So  I  argued  and  pleaded,  not  without  emotion ;  my 

l  BO 


THE   WRECKER 

friend  sitting  opposite,  resting  his  chin  upon  his  hand 
and  (but  for  that  single  interjection)  silent.  "I  have 
been  looking  for  this,  Loudon,"  said  he,  when  I  had 
done.  "It  does  pain  me,  and  that's  the  fact  —  I'm  so 
miserably  selfish.  And  I  believe  it's  a  death  blow  to 
the  picnics ;  for  it's  idle  to  deny  that  you  were  the  heart 
and  soul  of  them  with  your  wand  and  your  gallant  bear- 
ing, and  wit  and  humour  and  chivalry,  and  throwing 
that  kind  of  society  atmosphere  about  the  thing.  But 
for  all  that,  you're  right,  and  you  ought  to  go.  You 
may  count  on  forty  dollars  a  week;  and  ifDepew  City 
—  one  of  nature's  centres  for  this  State  —  pan  out  the 
least  as  I  expect,  it  may  be  double.  But  it's  forty  dol- 
lars anyway ;  and  to  think  that  two  years  ago  you  were 
almost  reduced  to  beggary ! " 

"I  was  reduced  to  it,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  the  brutes  gave  you  nothing,  and  I'm  glad  of 
it  now!"  cried  Jim.  "It's  the  triumphant  return  I 
glory  in !  Think  of  the  master,  and  that  cold-blooded 
Myner  too!  Yes,  just  let  the  Depew  City  boom  get  on 
its  legs,  and  you  shall  go ;  and  two  years  later,  day  for 
day,  I'll  shake  hands  with  you  in  Paris,  with  Mamie  on 
my  arm,  God  bless  her! " 

We  talked  in  this  vein  far  into  the  night.  I  was 
myself  so  exultant  in  my  new-found  liberty,  and  Pinker- 
ton  so  proud  of  my  triumph,  so  happy  in  my  happiness, 
in  so  warm  a  glow  about  the  gallant  little  woman  of  his 
choice,  and  the  very  room  so  filled  with  castles  in  the 
air  and  cottages  at  Fontainebleau,  that  it  was  little  won- 
der if  sleep  fled  our  eyelids,  and  three  had  followed  two 
upon  the  office  clock  before  Pinkerton  unfolded  the 
mechanism  of  his  patent  sofa. 

140 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FACES   ON   THE  CITY   FRONT 

It  is  very  much  the  custom  to  view  life  as  if  it  were 
exactly  ruled  in  two,  like  sleep  and  waking;  the  prov- 
inces of  play  and  business  standing  separate.  The 
business  side  of  my  career  in  San  Francisco  has  been 
now  disposed  of;  I  approach  the  chapter  of  diversion ; 
and  it  will  be  found  they  had  about  an  equal  share  in 
building  up  the  story  of  the  Wrecker  —  a  gentleman 
whose  appearance  may  be  presently  expected. 

With  all  my  occupations,  some  six  afternoons  and 
two  or  three  odd  evenings  remained  at  my  disposal 
every  week:  a  circumstance  the  more  agreeable  as  I 
was  a  stranger  in  a  city  singularly  picturesque.  From 
what  I  had  once  called  myself,  The  Amateur  Parisian, 
I  grew  (or  declined)  into  a  waterside  prowler,  a  lin- 
gerer on  wharves,  a  frequenter  of  shy  neighbourhoods, 
a  scraper  of  acquaintance  with  eccentric  characters.  I 
visited  Chinese  and  Mexican  gambling-hells,  German 
secret  societies,  sailors'  boarding-houses,  and  "dives" 
of  every  complexion  of  the  disreputable  and  dangerous. 
I  have  seen  greasy  Mexican  hands  pinned  to  the  table 
with  a  knife  for  cheating,  seamen  (when  blood-money 
ran  high)  knocked  down  upon  the  public  street  and 
carried  insensible  on  board  short-handed  ships,  shots 

141 


THE  WRECKER 

exchanged  and  the  smoke  (and  the  company)  dispers- 
ing from  the  doors  of  the  saloon.  I  have  heard  cold- 
minded  Polacks  debate  upon  the  readiest  method  of 
burning  San  Francisco  to  the  ground,  hot-headed  work- 
ing men  and  women  bawl  and  swear  in  the  tribune  at 
the  Sand  Lot,  and  Kearney  himself  open  his  subscription 
for  a  gallows,  name  the  manufacturers  who  were  to 
grace  it  with  their  dangling  bodies,  and  read  aloud  to 
the  delighted  multitude  a  telegram  of  adhesion  from  a 
member  of  the  State  legislature :  all  which  preparations 
of  proletarian  war  were  (in  a  moment)  breathed  upon 
and  abolished  by  the  mere  name  and  fame  of  Mr.  Cole- 
man. That  lion  of  the  Vigilantes  had  but  to  rouse  him- 
self and  shake  his  ears,  and  the  whole  brawling  mob 
was  silenced.  I  could  not  but  reflect  what  a  strange 
manner  of  man  this  was,  to  be  living  unremarked  there 
as  a  private  merchant,  and  to  be  so  feared  by  a  whole 
city;  and  if  I  was  disappointed,  in  my  character  of 
looker-on,  to  have  the  matter  end  ingloriously  without 
the  firing  of  a  shot  or  the  hanging  of  a  single  millionnaire, 
philosophy  tried  to  tell  me  that  this  sight  was  truly  the 
more  picturesque.  In  a  thousand  towns  and  different 
epochs  I  might  have  had  occasion  to  behold  the  cow- 
ardice and  carnage  of  street  fighting;  where  else,  but 
only  there  and  then,  could  I  have  enjoyed  a  view  of 
Coleman  (the  intermittent  despot)  walking  meditatively 
up  hill  in  a  quiet  part  of  town,  with  a  very  rolling  gait, 
and  slapping  gently  his  great  thigh  ? 

Minora  canamm.  This  historic  figure  stalks  silently 
through  a  corner  of  the  San  Francisco  of  my  memory: 
the  rest  is  bric-a-brac,  the  reminiscences  of  a  vagrant 
sketcher.    My  delight  was  much  in  slums.    Little  Italy 

142 


FACES  ON   THE  CITY   FRONT 

was  a  haunt  of  mine;  there  I  would  look  in  at  the  win- 
dows of  small  eating-shops,  transported  bodily  from 
Genoa  or  Naples,  with  their  macaroni,  and  chianti  flasks 
and  portraits  of  Garibaldi,  and  coloured  political  carica- 
tures; or  (entering  in)  hold  high  debate  with  some  ear- 
ringed  fisher  of  the  bay  as  to  the  designs  of  "Mr.  Ows- 
tria"  and  "Mr.  Rooshia."  I  was  often  to  be  observed 
(had  there  been  any  to  observe  me)  in  that  dispeopled, 
hill-side  solitude  of  Little  Mexico,  with  its  crazy  wooden 
houses,  endless  crazy  wooden  stairs,  and  perilous  moun- 
tain goat-paths  in  the  sand.  Chinatown  by  a  thousand 
eccentricities  drew  and  held  me;  I  could  never  have 
enough  of  its  ambiguous,  interracial  atmosphere,  as  of 
a  vitalised  museum;  never  wonder  enough  at  its  out- 
landish, necromantic-looking  vegetables  set  forth  to  sell 
in  commonplace  American  shop-windows,  its  temple 
doors  open  and  the  scent  of  the  joss-stick  streaming  forth 
on  the  American  air,  its  kites  of  Oriental  fashion  hang- 
ing fouled  in  Western  telegraph-wires,  its  flights  of 
paper  prayers  which  the  trade-wind  hunts  and  dissi- 
pates along  Western  gutters.  I  was  a  frequent  wan- 
derer on  North  Beach,  gazing  at  the  straits,  and  the 
huge  Cape-Horners  creeping  out  to  sea,  and  imminent 
Tamalpais.  Thence,  on  my  homeward  way,  I  might 
visit  that  strange  and  filthy  shed,  earth-paved  and  walled 
with  the  cages  of  wild  animals  and  birds,  where  at  a 
ramshackle  counter,  amid  the  yells  of  monkeys,  and  a 
poignant  atmosphere  of  menagerie,  forty-rod  whisky 
was  administered  by  a  proprietor  as  dirty  as  his  beasts. 
Nor  did  I  even  neglect  Nob  Hill,  which  is  itself  a  kind 
of  slum,  being  the  habitat  of  the  mere  millionnaire.  There 
they  dwell  upon  the  hill-top,  high  raised  above  man's 

>43 


THE   WRECKER 

clamour,  and  the  trade-wind  blows  between  their  pal- 
aces about  deserted  streets. 

But  San  Francisco  is  not  herself  only.  She  is  not  only 
the  most  interesting  city  in  the  Union,  and  the  hugest 
smelting-pot  of  races  and  the  precious  metals.  She 
keeps,  besides,  the  doors  of  the  Pacific,  and  is  the  port 
of  entry  to  another  world  and  an  earlier  epoch  in  man's 
history.  Nowhere  else  shall  you  observe  (in  the  ancient 
phrase)  so  many  tall  ships  as  here  convene  from  round 
the  Horn,  from  China,  from  Sydney,  and  the  Indies; 
but  scarce  remarked  amid  that  crowd  of  deep-sea  giants, 
another  class  of  craft,  the  Island  schooner,  circulates: 
low  in  the  water,  with  lofty  spars  and  dainty  lines, 
rigged  and  fashioned  like  a  yacht,  manned  with  brown- 
skinned,  soft-spoken,  sweet-eyed  native  sailors,  and 
equipped  with  their  great  double-ender  boats  that  tell  a 
tale  of  boisterous  sea-beaches.  These  steal  out  and  in 
again,  unnoted  by  the  world  or  even  the  newspaper 
press,  save  for  the  line  in  the  clearing  column,  ' '  Schooner 
So-and-so  for  Yap  and  South  Sea  Islands  " — steal  out 
with  nondescript  cargoes  of  tinned  salmon,  gin,  bolts 
of  gaudy  cotton  stuff,  women's  hats,  and  Waterbury 
watches,  to  return,  after  a  year,  piled  as  high  as  to  the 
eaves  of  the  house  with  copra,  or  wallowing  deep  with 
the  shells  of  the  tortoise  or  the  pearl  oyster.  To  me,  in 
my  character  of  the  Amateur  Parisian,  this  island  traffic, 
and  even  the  island  world,  were  beyond  the  bounds  of 
curiosity,  and  how  much  more  of  knowledge.  I  stood 
there  on  the  extreme  shore  of  the  West  and  of  to-day. 
Seventeen  hundred  years  ago,  and  seven  thousand  miles 
to  the  east,  a  legionary  stood,  perhaps,  upon  the  wall  of 
Antoninus,  and  looked  northward  toward  the  mountains 


FACES   ON   THE   CITY   FRONT 

of  the  Picts.  For  all  the  interval  of  time  and  space,  I, 
when  I  looked  from  the  cliff-house  on  the  broad  Pacific, 
was  that  man's  heir  and  analogue:  each  of  us  standing 
on  the  verge  of  the  Roman  Empire  (or,  as  we  now  call 
it,  Western  civilisation),  each  of  us  gazing  onward  into 
zones  unromanised.  But  I  was  dull.  I  looked  rather 
backward,  keeping  a  kind  eye  on  Paris ;  and  it  required 
a  series  of  converging  incidents  to  change  my  attitude 
of  nonchalance  for  one  of  interest,  and  even  longing, 
which  I  little  dreamed  that  I  should  live  to  gratify. 

The  first  of  these  incidents  brought  me  in  acquaint- 
ance with  a  certain  San  Francisco  character,  who  had 
something  of  a  name  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city,  and 
was  known  to  many  lovers  of  good  English.  I  had 
discovered  a  new  slum,  a  place  of  precarious,  sandy 
cliffs,  deep,  sandy  cuttings,  solitary,  ancient  houses, 
and  the  butt-ends  of  streets.  It  was  already  environed. 
The  ranks  of  the  street-lamps  threaded  it  unbroken. 
The  city,  upon  all  sides  of  it,  was  tightly  packed,  and 
growled  with  traffic.  To-day,  I  do  not  doubt  the  very 
landmarks  are  all  swept  away ;  but  it  offered  then,  with- 
in narrow  limits,  a  delightful  peace,  and  (in  the  morn- 
ing, when  I  chiefly  went  there)  a  seclusion  almost  rural. 
On  a  steep  sand-hill,  in  this  neighbourhood,  toppled,  on 
the  most  insecure  foundation,  a  certain  row  of  houses, 
each  with  a  bit  of  garden,  and  all  (I  have  to  presume) 
inhabited.  Thither  I  used  to  mount  by  a  crumbling 
footpath,  and  in  front  of  the  last  of  the  houses,  would 
sit  down  to  sketch.  The  very  first  day  I  saw  I  was  ob- 
served, out  of  the  ground-floor  window,  by  a  youngish, 
good-looking  fellow,  prematurely  bald,  and  with  an 
expression  both  lively  and  engaging,     The  second,  as 

M5 


THE  WRECKER 

we  were  still  the  only  figures  in  the  landscape,  it  was 
no  more  than  natural  that  we  should  nod.  The  third, 
he  came  fairly  out  from  his  entrenchments,  praised  my 
sketch,  and  with  the  impromptu  cordiality  of  artists 
carried  me  into  his  apartment;  where  I  sat  presently  in 
the  midst  of  a  museum  of  strange  objects, — paddles 
and  battle-clubs  and  baskets,  rough-hewn  stone  im- 
ages, ornaments  of  threaded  shell,  cocoanut  bowls, 
snowy  cocoanut  plumes  —  evidences  and  examples  of 
another  earth,  another  climate,  another  race,  and  an- 
other (if  a  ruder)  culture.  Nor  did  these  objects  lack  a 
fitting  commentary  in  the  conversation  of  my  new  ac- 
quaintance. Doubtless  you  have  read  his  book.  You 
know  already  how  he  tramped  and  starved,  and  had  so 
fine  a  profit  of  living,  in  his  days  among  the  islands ; 
and,  meeting  him,  as  I  did,  one  artist  with  another, 
after  months  of  offices  and  picnics,  you  can  imagine 
with  what  charm  he  would  speak,  and  with  what  plea- 
sure I  would  hear.  It  was  in  such  talks,  which  we 
were  both  eager  to  repeat,  that  I  first  heard  the  names 
—  first  fell  under  the  spell  —  of  the  islands;  and  it  was 
from  one  of  the  first  of  them  that  I  returned  (a  happy 
man)  with  Omoo  under  one  arm,  and  my  friend's  own 
adventures  under  the  other. 

The  second  incident  was  more  dramatic,  and  had, 
besides,  a  bearing  on  my  future.  I  was  standing,  one 
day,  near  a  boat-landing  under  Telegraph  Hill.  A  large 
barque,  perhaps  of  eighteen  hundred  tons,  was  coming 
more  than  usually  close  about  the  point  to  reach  her 
moorings;  and  I  was  observing  her  with  languid  inat- 
tention, when  I  observed  two  men  to  stride  across  the 
bulwarks,  drop  into  a  shore  boat,  and,  violently  dispos- 

146 


FACES   ON   THE  CITY   FRONT 

sessing  the  boatman  of  his  oars,  pull  toward  the  landing 
where  I  stood.  In  a  surprisingly  short  time  they  came 
tearing  up  the  steps;  and  I  could  see  that  both  were 
too  well  dressed  to  be  foremast  hands  —  the  first  even 
with  research,  and  both,  and  specially  the  first,  appeared 
under  the  empire  of  some  strong  emotion. 

''Nearest  police  office! "  cried  the  leader. 

"This  way,"  said  I,  immediately  falling  in  with  their 
precipitate  pace.    "What's  wrong?  What  ship  is  that?" 

* '  That's  the  Gleaner, ' '  he  replied.  "lam  chief  offi- 
cer, this  gentleman's  third;  and  we've  to  get  in  our  de- 
positions before  the  crew.  You  see  they  might  corral 
us  with  the  captain;  and  that's  no  kind  of  berth  for  me. 
I've  sailed  with  some  hard  cases  in  my  time,  and  seen 
pins  flying  like  sand  on  a  squally  day  —  but  never  a 
match  to  our  old  man.  It  never  let  up  from  the  Hook 
to  the  Farallones;  and  the  last  man  was  dropped  not 
sixteen  hours  ago.  Packet  rats  our  men  were,  and  as 
tough  a  crowd  as  ever  sand-bagged  a  man's  head  in ; 
but  they  looked  sick  enough  when  the  captain  started 
in  with  his  fancy  shooting." 

"  O,  he's  done  up,"  observed  the  other.  "  He  won't 
go  to  sea  no  more." 

"  You  make  me  tired,"  retorted  his  superior.  "  If  he 
gets  ashore  in  one  piece  and  isn't  lynched  in  the  next 
ten  minutes,  he'll  do  yet.  The  owners  have  a  longer 
memory  than  the  public;  they'll  stand  by  him;  they 
don't  find  as  smart  a  captain  every  day  in  the  year." 

"O,  he's  a  son  of  a  gun  of  a  fine  captain,  there  ain't 
no  doubt  of  that, "  concurred  the  other,  heartily.  ' '  Why, 
I  don't  suppose  there's  been  no  wages  paid  aboard  that 
Gleaner  for  three  trips. " 

*47 


THE   WRECKER 

"No  wages?"  I  exclaimed,  for  I  was  still  a  novice 
in  maritime  affairs. 

"Not  to  sailor-men  before  the  mast,"  agreed  the 
mate.  "Men  cleared  out;  wasn't  the  soft  job  they 
maybe  took  it  for.  She  isn't  the  first  ship  that  never 
paid  wages." 

I  could  not  but  observe  that  our  pace  was  progres- 
sively relaxing;  and  indeed  I  have  often  wondered  since 
whether  the  hurry  of  the  start  were  not  intended  for  the 
gallery  alone.  Certain  it  is  at  least,  that  when  we  had 
reached  the  police  office,  and  the  mates  had  made  their 
deposition,  and  told  their  horrid  tale  of  five  men  mur- 
dered, some  with  savage  passion,  some  with  cold  bru- 
tality, between  Sandy  Hook  and  San  Francisco,  the 
police  were  despatched  in  time  to  be  too  late.  Before 
we  arrived,  the  ruffian  had  slipped  out  upon  the  dock, 
had  mingled  with  the  crowd,  and  found  a  refuge  in  the 
house  of  an  acquaintance;  and  the  ship  was  only  ten- 
anted by  his  late  victims.  Well  for  him  that  he  had 
been  thus  speedy.  For  when  word  began  to  go  abroad 
among  the  shore-side  characters,  when  the  last  victim 
was  carried  by  to  the  hospital,  when  those  who  had  es- 
caped (as  by  miracle)  from  that  floating  shambles,  began 
to  circulate  and  show  their  wounds  in  the  crowd,  it 
was  strange  to  witness  the  agitation  that  seized  and 
shook  that  portion  of  the  city.  Men  shed  tears  in  pub- 
lic ;  bosses  of  lodging-houses,  long  inured  to  brutality, 
and  above  all,  brutality  to  sailors,  shook  their  fists  at 
heaven :  if  hands  could  have  been  laid  on  the  captain 
of  the  Gleaner,  his  shrift  would  have  been  short.  That 
night  (so  gossip  reports)  he  was  headed  up  in  a  barrel 
and  smuggled  across  the  bay :  in  two  ships  already  he 

148 


FACES  ON   THE  CITY   FRONT 

had  braved  the  penitentiary  and  the  gallows;  and  yet, 
by  last  accounts,  he  now  commands  another  on  the 
Western  Ocean. 

As  I  have  said,  I  was  never  quite  certain  whether  Mr. 
Nares  (the  mate)  did  not  intend  that  his  superior  should 
escape.  It  would  have  been  like  his  preference  of  loy- 
alty to  law ;  it  would  have  been  like  his  prejudice,  which 
was  all  in  favour  of  the  after-guard.  But  it  must  remain 
a  matter  of  conjecture  only.  Well  as  I  came  to  know 
him  in  the  sequel,  he  was  never  communicative  on  that 
point,  nor  indeed  on  any  that  concerned  the  voyage  of 
the  Gleaner.  Doubtless  he  had  some  reason  for  his 
reticence.  Even  during  our  walk  to  the  police  office, 
he  debated  several  times  with  Johnson,  the  third  officer, 
whether  he  ought  not  to  give  up  himself,  as  well  as  to 
denounce  the  captain.  He  had  decided  in  the  nega- 
tive, arguing  that  "  it  would  probably  come  to  nothing, 
and  even  if  there  was  a  stink,  he  had  plenty  good  friends 
in  San  Francisco."  And  to  nothing  it  came;  though  it 
must  have  very  nearly  come  to  something,  for  Mr.  Nares 
disappeared  immediately  from  view  and  was  scarce  less 
closely  hidden  than  his  captain. 

Johnson,  on  the  other  hand,  I  often  met.  I  could 
never  learn  this  man's  country ;  and  though  he  himself 
claimed  to  be  American,  neither  his  English  nor  his  edu- 
cation warranted  the  claim.  In  all  likelihood  he  was 
of  Scandinavian  birth  and  blood,  long  pickled  in  the 
forecastles  of  English  and  American  ships.  It  is  possi- 
ble that,  like  so  many  of  his  race  in  similar  positions,  he 
had  already  lost  his  native  tongue.  In  mind,  at  least, 
he  was  quite  denationalised;  thought  only  in  English — - 
to  call  it  so;  and  though  by  nature  one  of  the  mildest, 

•49 


THE  WRECKER 

kindest,  and  most  feebly  playful  of  mankind,  he  had 
been  so  long  accustomed  to  the  cruelty  of  sea  discipline, 
that  his  stories  (told  perhaps  with  a  giggle)  would 
sometimes  turn  me  chill.  In  appearance,  he  was  tall, 
light  of  weight,  bold  and  high-bred  of  feature,  dusky- 
haired,  and  with  a  face  of  a  clean  even  brown :  the  or- 
nament of  outdoor  men.  Seated  in  a  chair,  you  might 
have  passed  him  off  for  a  baronet  or  a  military  officer; 
but  let  him  rise,  and  it  was  Fo'c's'le  Jack  that  came  roll- 
ing toward  you,  crab-like;  let  him  but  open  his  lips, 
and  it  was  Fo'c's'le  Jack  that  piped  and  drawled  his  un- 
grammatical  gibberish.  He  had  sailed  (among  other 
places)  much  among  the  islands;  and  after  a  Cape  Horn 
passage  with  its  snow-squalls  and  its  frozen  sheets,  he 
announced  his  intention  of  "  taking  a  turn  among  them 
Kanakas."  I  thought  I  should  have  lost  him  soon;  but 
according  to  the  unwritten  usage  of  mariners,  he  had 
first  to  dissipate  his  wages.  ''Guess  I'll  have  to  paint 
this  town  red,"  was  his  hyperbolical  expression;  for 
sure  no  man  ever  embarked  upon  a  milder  course  of 
dissipation,  most  of  his  days  being  passed  in  the  little 
parlour  behind  Black  Tom's  public  house,  with  a  select 
corps  of  old  particular  acquaintances,  all  from  the  South 
Seas,  and  all  patrons  of  a  long  yarn,  a  short  pipe,  and 
glasses  round. 

Black  Tom's,  to  the  front,  presented  the  appearance 
of  a  fourth-rate  saloon,  devoted  to  Kanaka  seamen,  dirt, 
negrohead  tobacco,  bad  cigars,  worse  gin,  and  guitars 
and  banjos  in  a  state  of  decline.  The  proprietor,  a 
powerful  coloured  man,  was  at  once  a  publican,  a  ward 
politician,  leader  of  some  brigade  of ' '  lambs  "  or  ' '  smash- 
ers," at  the  wind  of  whose  clubs  the  party  bosses  and 

150 


FACES  ON   THE  CITY   FRONT 

the  mayor  were  supposed  to  tremble,  and  (what  hurt 
nothing)  an  active  and  reliable  crimp.  His  front  quar- 
ters, then,  were  noisy,  disreputable,  and  not  even  safe. 
I  have  seen  worse  frequented  saloons  where  there  were 
fewer  scandals ;  for  Tom  was  often  drunk  himself ;  and 
there  is  no  doubt  the  Lambs  must  have  been  a  useful 
body,  or  the  place  would  have  been  closed.  I  remem- 
ber one  day,  not  long  before  an  election,  seeing  a  blind 
man,  very  well  dressed,  led  up  to  the  counter  and  re- 
main a  long  while  in  consultation  with  the  negro.  The 
pair  looked  so  ill-assorted,  and  the  awe  with  which  the 
drinkers  fell  back  and  left  them  in  the  midst  of  an  im- 
promptu privacy  was  so  unusual  in  such  a  place,  that  I 
turned  to  my  next  neighbour  with  a  question.  He  told 
me  the  blind  man  was  a  distinguished  party  boss,  called 
by  some  the  King  of  San  Francisco,  but  perhaps  better 
known  by  his  picturesque  Chinese  nickname  of  the 
Blind  White  Devil.  "The  Lambs  must  be  wanted 
pretty  bad,  I  guess,"  my  informant  added.  I  have  here 
a  sketch  of  the  Blind  White  Devil  leaning  on  the  coun- 
ter; on  the  next  page,  and  taken  the  same  hour,  a  jot- 
ting of  Black  Tom  threatening  a  whole  crowd  of  cus- 
tomers with  a  long  Smith  and  Wesson :  to  such  heights 
and  depths  we  rose  and  fell  in  the  front  parts  of  the 
saloon. 

Meanwhile,  away  in  the  back  quarters,  sat  the  small 
informal  South  Sea  club,  talking  of  another  world  and 
surely  of  a  different  century.  Old  schooner  captains 
they  were,  old  South  Sea  traders,  cooks,  and  mates: 
fine  creatures,  softened  by  residence  among  a  softer 
race:  full  men  besides,  though  not  by  reading,  but  by 
strange  experience;  and  for  days  together  I  could  hear 

'5' 


THE   WRECKER 

their  yarns  with  an  unfading  pleasure.  All  had  indeed 
some  touch  of  the  poetic;  for  the  beach-comber,  when 
not  a  mere  ruffian,  is  the  poor  relation  of  the  artist. 
Even  through  Johnson's  inarticulate  speech,  his  "  O  yes, 
there  ain't  no  harm  in  them  Kanakas,"  or,  "O  yes, 
that's  a  son  of  a  gun  of  a  fine  island,  mountainious  right 
down;  I  didn't  never  ought  to  have  left  that  island," 
there  pierced  a  certain  gusto  of  appreciation :  and  some 
of  the  rest  were  master-talkers.  From  their  long  tales, 
their  traits  of  character  and  unpremeditated  landscape, 
there  began  to  piece  itself  together  in  my  head  some 
image  of  the  islands  and  the  island  life:  precipitous 
shores,  spired  mountain  tops,  the  deep  shade  of  hang- 
ing forests,  the  unresting  surf  upon  the  reef,  and  the 
unending  peace  of  the  lagoon ;  sun,  moon,  and  stars  of 
an  imperial  brightness;  man  moving  in  these  scenes 
scarce  fallen,  and  woman  lovelier  than  Eve;  the  primal 
curse  abrogated,  the  bed  made  ready  for  the  stranger, 
life  set  to  perpetual  music,  and  the  guest  welcomed, 
the  boat  urged,  and  the  long  night  beguiled,  with 
poetry  and  choral  song.  A  man  must  have  been  an 
unsuccessful  artist ;  he  must  have  starved  on  the  streets 
of  Paris;  he  must  have  been  yoked  to  a  commercial 
force  like  Pinkerton,  before  he  can  conceive  the  long- 
ings that  at  times  assailed  me.  The  draughty,  rowdy 
city  of  San  Francisco,  the  bustling  office  where  my 
friend  Jim  paced  like  a  caged  lion  daily  between  ten 
and  four,  even  (at  times)  the  retrospect  of  Paris,  faded 
in  comparison.  Many  a  man  less  tempted  would  have 
thrown  up  all  to  realise  his  visions;  but  I  was  by  nature 
unadventurous  and  uninitiative :  to  divert  me  from  all 
former  paths  and  send  me  cruising  through  the  isles  of 

•52 


FACES  ON  THE   CITY   FRONT 

paradise,  some  force  external  to  myself  must  be  exerted ; 
Destiny  herself  must  use  the  fitting  wedge;  and  little 
as  I  deemed  it,  that  tool  was  already  in  her  hand  of 
brass. 

I  sat,  one  afternoon,  in  the  corner  of  a  great,  glassy, 
silvered  saloon,  a  free  lunch  at  my  one  elbow,  at  the 
other  a  ''conscientious  nude"  from  the  brush  of  local 
talent;  when,  with  the  tramp  of  feet  and  a  sudden  buzz 
of  voices,  the  swing-doors  were  flung  broadly  open  and 
the  place  carried  as  by  storm.  The  crowd  which  thus 
entered  (mostly  seafaring  men,  and  all  prodigiously  ex- 
cited) contained  a  sort  of  kernel  or  general  centre  of 
interest,  which  the  rest  merely  surrounded  and  adver- 
tised, as  children  in  the  Old  World  surround  and  escort 
the  Punch-and-Judy  man ;  and  word  went  round  the  bar 
like  wildfire,  that  these  were  Captain  Trent  and  the 
survivors  of  the  British  brig  Flying  Scud,  picked  up  by 
a  British  war-ship  on  Midway  Island,  arrived  that  morn- 
ing in  San  Francisco  Bay,  and  now  fresh  from  making 
the  necessary  declarations.  Presently  I  had  a  good 
sight  of  them:  four  brown,  seamanlike  fellows,  stand- 
ing by  the  counter,  glass  in  hand,  the  centre  of  a  score 
of  questioners.  One  was  a  Kanaka  —  the  cook,  I  was 
informed ;  one  carried  a  cage  with  a  canary,  which  occa- 
sionally trilled  into  thin  song;  one  had  his  left  arm  in 
a  sling  and  looked  gentlemanlike,  and  somewhat  sickly, 
as  though  the  injury  had  been  severe  and  he  was  scarce 
recovered;  and  the  captain  himself — a  red-faced,  blue- 
eyed,  thick-set  man  of  five  and  forty  —  wore  a  bandage 
on  his  right  hand.  The  incident  struck  me;  I  was 
struck  particularly  to  see  captain,  cook,  and  foremast 
hands  walking  the  street  and  visiting  saloons  in  corn- 


THE WRECKER 

pany;  and,  as  when  anything  impressed  me,  I  got  my 
sketch-book  out,  and  began  to  steal  a  sketch  of  the  four 
castaways.  The  crowd,  sympathising  with  my  design, 
made  a  clear  lane  across  the  room;  and  I  was  thus 
enabled,  all  unobserved  myself,  to  observe  with  a  still- 
growing  closeness  the  face  and  the  demeanour  of  Cap- 
tain Trent. 

Warmed  by  whisky  and  encouraged  by  the  eagerness 
of  the  bystanders,  that  gentleman  was  now  rehearsing 
thp  history  of  his  misfortune.  It  was  but  scraps  that 
reached  me:  how  he  "filled  heron  the  starboard  tack," 
and  how  "  it  came  up  sudden  out  of  the  nor'nor'west," 
and  "there  she  was,  high  and  dry."  Sometimes  he 
would  appeal  to  one  of  the  men —  "That  was  how  it 
was,  Jack?"  —  and  the  man  would  reply,  "That  was 
the  way  of  it,  Captain  Trent."  Lastly,  he  started  a 
fresh  tide  of  popular  sympathy  by  enunciating  the  sen- 
timent, "Damn  all  these  Admirality  Charts,  and  that's 
what  I  say !  "  From  the  nodding  of  heads  and  the  mur- 
murs of  assent  that  followed,  I  could  see  that  Captain 
Trent  had  established  himself  in  the  public  mind  as  a 
gentleman  and  a  thorough  navigator:  about  which 
period,  my  sketch  of  the  four  men  and  the  canary-bird 
being  finished,  and  all  (especially  the  canary-bird)  ex- 
cellent likenesses,  I  buckled  up  my  book,  and  slipped 
from  the  saloon. 

Little  did  I  suppose  that  I  was  leaving  Act  I,  Scene  I, 
of  the  drama  of  my  life;  and  yet  the  scene,  or  rather  the 
captain's  face,  lingered  for  some  time  in  my  memory.  I 
was  no  prophet,  as  I  say;  but  I  was  something  else:  I 
was  an  observer;  and  one  thing  I  knew,  I  knew  when  a 
man  was  terrified.     Captain  Trent,  of  the  British  brig 

>54 


FACES  ON  THE  CITY   FRONT 

Flying  Scud,  had  been  glib;  he  had  been  ready;  he  had 
been  loud ;  but  in  his  blue  eyes  I  could  detect  the  chill, 
and  in  the  lines  of  his  countenance  spy  the  agitation  of 
perpetual  terror.  Was  he  trembling  for  his  certificate  ? 
In  my  judgment,  it  was  some  livelier  kind  of  fear  that 
thrilled  in  the  man's  marrow  as  he  turned  to  drink. 
Was  it  the  result  of  recent  shock,  and  had  he  not  yet 
recovered  the  disaster  to  his  brig  ?  I  remembered  how 
a  friend  of  mine  had  been  in  a  railway  accident,  and 
shook  and  started  for  a  month ;  and  although  Captain 
Trent  of  the  Flying  Scud  had  none  of  the  appearance  of 
a  nervous  man,  I  told  myself,  with  incomplete  convic- 
tion, that  his  must  be  a  similar  case. 


155 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  WRECK  OF  THE    "  FLYING  SCUD" 

The  next  morning  I  found  Pinkerton,  who  had  risen 
before  me,  seated  at  our  usual  table,  and  deep  in  the 
perusal  of  what  I  will  call  the  Daily  Occidental.  This 
was  a  paper  (I  know  not  if  it  be  so  still)  that  stood  out 
alone  among  its  brethren  in  the  West;  the  others, 
down  to  their  smallest  item,  were  defaced  with  capitals, 
head  lines,  alliterations,  swaggering  misquotations,  and 
the  shoddy  picturesque  and  unpathetic  pathos  of  the 
Harry  Millers:  the  Occidental  alone  appeared  to  be 
written  by  a  dull,  sane,  Christian  gentleman,  singly  de- 
sirous of  communicating  knowledge.  It  had  not  only 
this  merit,  which  endeared  it  to  me,  but  was  admittedly 
the  best  informed  on  business  matters,  which  attracted 
Pinkerton. 

"Loudon,"  said  he,  looking  up  from  the  journal, 
"you  sometimes  think  I  have  too  many  irons  in  the 
fire.  My  notion,  on  the  other  hand,  is,  when  you  see  a 
dollar  lying,  pick  it  up !  Well,  here  I've  tumbled  over  a 
whole  pile  of  'em  on  a  reef  in  the  middle  of  the  Pacific." 

"Why,  Jim,  you  miserable  fellow!"  I  exclaimed; 
"haven't  we  Depew  City,  one  of  God's  green  centres 
for  this  State  ?  haven't  we " 

"Just  listen  to  this,"  interrupted  Jim.  "  It's  miser- 
156 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

able  copy;  these  Occidental  reporter  fellows  have  no 
fire;  but  the  facts  are  right  enough,  I  guess."  And  he 
began  to  read :  — 

"  Wreck  of  the  British  Brig  '  Flying  Scud.' 

"  H.  B.  M.  S.  Tempest,  which  arrived  yesterday  at  this  port,  brings 
Captain  Trent  and  four  men  of  the  British  brig  Flying  Scud,  cast  away 
February  1 2th  on  Midway  Island,  and  most  providentially  rescued  the 
next  day.  The  Flying  Scud  was  of  200  tons  burthen,  owned  in 
London,  and  has  been  out  nearly  two  years  tramping.  Captain  Trent 
left  Hong  Kong  December  8th,  bound  for  this  port  in  rice  and  a  small 
mixed  cargo  of  silks,  teas,  and  China  notions,  the  whole  valued  at 
$10,000,  fully  covered  by  insurance.  The  log  shows  plenty  of  fine 
weather,  with  light  airs,  calms,  and  squalls.  In  lat.  28  N.,  long.  1 77  W., 
his  water  going  rotten,  and  misled  by  Hoyt's  North  Pacific  Directory, 
which  informed  him  there  was  a  coaling  station  on  the  island,  Captain 
Trent  put  in  to  Midway  Island.  He  found  it  a  literal  sandbank,  sur- 
rounded by  a  coral  reef  mostly  submerged.  Birds  were  very  plenty, 
there  was  good  fish  in  the  lagoon,  but  no  firewood;  and  the  water, 
which  could  be  obtained  by  digging,  brackish.  He  found  good  hold- 
ing-ground off  the  north  end  of  the  larger  bank  in  fifteen  fathoms 
water;  bottom  sandy,  with  coral  patches.  Here  he  was  detained  seven 
days  by  a  calm,  the  crew  suffering  severely  from  the  water,  which  was 
gone  quite  bad;  and  it  was  only  on  the  evening  of  the  12th,  that  a 
little  wind  sprang  up,  coming  puffy  out  of  N.  N.  E.  Late  as  it  was, 
Captain  Trent  immediately  weighed  anchor  and  attempted  to  get  out. 
While  the  vessel  was  beating  up  to  the  passage,  the  wind  took  a  sudden 
lull  and  then  veered  squally  intoN.,  and  even  N.N.W.,  driving  the  brig 
ashore  on  the  sand  at  about  twenty  minutes  before  six  o'clock.  John 
Wallen,  a  native  of  Finland,  and  Charles  Holdorsen,  a  native  of  Swe- 
den, were  drowned  alongside,  in  attempting  to  lower  a  boat,  neither 
being  able  to  swim,  the  squall  very  dark,  and  the  noise  of  the  breakers 
drowning  everything.  At  the  same  time  John  Brown,  another  of  the 
crew,  had  his  arm  broken  by  the  falls.  Captain  Trent  further  informed 
the  Occidental  reporter,  that  the  brig  struck  heavily  at  first  bows  on, 
he  supposes  upon  coral;  that  she  then  drove  over  the  obstacle,  and  now 
lies  in  sand,  much  down  by  the  head  and  with  a  list  to  starboard.     In 

»57 


THE  WRECKER 

the  first  collision  she  must  have  sustained  some  damage,  as  she  was 
making  water  forward.  The  rice  will  probably  be  all  destroyed:  but 
the  more  valuable  part  of  the  cargo  is  fortunately  in  the  afterhold. 
Captain  Trent  was  preparing  his  long-boat  for  sea,  when  the  providen- 
tial arrival  of  the  Tempest,  pursuant  to  Admiralty  orders  to  call  at 
islands  in  her  course  for  castaways,  saved  the  gallant  captain  from  all 
further  danger.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  both  the  officers 
and  men  of  the  unfortunate  vessel  speak  in  high  terms  of  the  kindness 
they  received  on  board  the  man-of-war.  We  print  a  list  of  the  survi- 
vors: Jacob  Trent,  master,  of  Hull,  England;  Elias  Goddedaal,  mate, 
native  of  Christiansand,  Sweden;  Ah  Wing,  cook,  native  of  Sana, 
China;  John  Brown,  native  of  Glasgow,  Scotland;  John  Hardy,  native 
of  London,  England.  The  Flying  Scud  is  ten  years  old,  and  this 
morning  will  be  sold  as  she  stands,  by  order  of  Lloyd's  agent,  at 
public  auction  for  the  benefit  of  the  underwriters.  The  auction  will 
take  place  in  the  Merchants'  Exchange  at  ten  o'clock. 

"Farther  Particulars. —  Later  in  the  afternoon  the  Occidental 
reporter  found  Lieutenant  Sebright,  first  officer  of  H.  B.  M.  S.  Tempest, 
at  the  Palace  Hotel.  The  gallant  officer  was  somewhat  pressed  for 
time,  but  confirmed  the  account  given  by  Captain  Trent  in  all  particu- 
lars. He  added  that  the  Flying  Scud  is  in  an  excellent  berth,  and  ex- 
cept in  the  highly  improbable  event  of  a  heavy  N.  W.  gale,  might  last 
until  next  winter. " 


"  You  will  never  know  anything  of  literature,"  said  I, 
when  Jim  had  finished.  "  That  is  a  good,  honest,  plain 
piece  of  work,  and  tells  the  story  clearly.  I  see  only 
one  mistake :  the  cook  is  not  a  Chinaman ;  he  is  a  Ka- 
naka, and  I  think  a  Hawaiian." 

''Why,  how  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Jim. 

"I  saw  the  whole  gang  yesterday  in  a  saloon,"  said  I. 
"I  even  heard  the  tale,  or  might  have  heard  it,  from 
Captain  Trent  himself,  who  struck  me  as  thirsty  and 
nervous." 

"Well,  that's  neither  here  nor  there,"  cried  Pinker- 
158 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

ton.  ''The  point  is,  how  about  these  dollars  lying  on 
a  reef?" 

4 'Will  it  pay?"  I  asked. 

"Pay  like  a  sugar  trust!"  exclaimed  Pinkerton. 
"  Don't  you  see  what  this  British  officer  says  about  the 
safety  ?  Don't  you  see  the  cargo's  valued  at  ten  thou- 
sand ?  Schooners  are  begging  just  now;  I  can  get  my 
pick  of  them  at  two  hundred  and  fifty  a  month ;  and 
how  does  that  foot  up  ?  It  looks  like  three  hundred  per 
cent,  to  me." 

"You  forget,"  I  objected,  "the  captain  himself  de- 
clares the  rice  is  damaged." 

"That's  a  point,  I  know,"  admitted  Jim.  "  But  the 
rice  is  the  sluggish  article,  anyway ;  it's  little  more  ac- 
count than  ballast;  it's  the  tea  and  silks  that  I  look  to: 
all  we  have  to  find  is  the  proportion,  and  one  look  at 
the  manifest  will  settle  that.  I've  rung  up  Lloyd's  on 
purpose;  the  captain  is  to  meet  me  there  in  an  hour, 
and  then  I'll  be  as  posted  on  that  brig  as  if  I  built  her. 
Besides,  you've  no  idea  what  pickings  there  are  about  a 
wreck — copper,  lead,  rigging,  anchors,  chains,  even  the 
crockery,  Loudon ! " 

"  You  seem  to  me  to  forget  one  trifle,"  said  I.  "  Be- 
fore you  pick  that  wreck,  you've  got  to  buy  her,  and 
how  much  will  she  cost  ?  " 

"  One  hundred  dollars, "  replied  Jim,  with  the  prompti- 
tude of  an  automaton. 

"How  on  earth  do  you  guess  that?"  I  cried. 

' '  I  don't  guess ;  I  know  it, "  answered  the  Commercial 
Force.  "  My  dear  boy,  I  may  be  a  galoot  about  litera- 
ture, but  you'll  always  be  an  outsider  in  business.  How 
do  you  suppose  I  bought  the  James  L.  Moody  for  two 

159 


THE  WRECKER 

hundred  and  fifty,  her  boats  alone  worth  four  times  the 
money  ?  Because  my  name  stood  first  in  the  list. 
Well,  it  stands  there  again ;  I  have  the  naming  of  the 
figure,  and  I  name  a  small  one  because  of  the  distance : 
but  it  wouldn't  matter  what  I  named;  that  would  be  the 
price." 

"It  sounds  mysterious  enough,"  said  I.  "Is  this 
public  auction  conducted  in  a  subterranean  vault? 
Could  a  plain  citizen  —  myself,  for  instance  —  come  and 
see  ?  " 

*  O,  everything's  open  and  above  board,"  he  cried 
indignantly.  "Anybody  can  come,  only  nobody  bids 
against  us,  and  if  he  did,  he  would  get  frozen  out.  It's 
been  tried  before  now,  and  once  was  enough.  We  hold 
the  plant;  we've  got  the  connection;  we  can  afford  to  go 
higher  than  any  outsider;  there's  two  million  dollars  in 
the  ring;  and  we  stick  at  nothing.  Or  suppose  any- 
body did  buy  over  our  head  —  I  tell  you,  Loudon,  he 
would  think  this  town  gone  crazy ;  he  could  no  more  get 
business  through  on  the  city  front  than  I  can  dance; 
schooners,  divers,  men  —  all  he  wanted  —  the  prices 
would  fly  right  up  and  strike  him." 

"But  how  did  you  get  in?"  I  asked.  "You  were 
once  an  outsider  like  your  neighbours,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  took  hold  of  that  thing,  Loudon,  and  just  studied 
it  up,"  he  replied.  "  It  took  my  fancy ;  it  was  so  roman- 
tic, and  then  I  saw  there  was  boodle  in  the  thing;  and 
I  figured  on  the  business  till  no  man  alive  could  give  me 
points.  Nobody  knew  I  had  an  eye  on  wrecks  till  one 
fine  morning  I  dropped  in  upon  Douglas  B.  Longhurst 
in  his  den,  gave  him  all  the  facts  and  figures,  and  put 
it  to  him  straight :  ■  Do  you  want  me  in  this  ring  ?  or 

160 


THE  WRECK   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

shall  I  start  another? '  He  took  half  an  hour,  and  when 
I  came  back,  '  Pink,'  says  he,  '  I've  put  your  name  on.' 
The  first  time  I  came  to  the  top,  it  was  that  Moody 
racket;  now  it's  the  Flying  Scud." 

Whereupon  Pinkerton,  looking  at  his  watch,  uttered 
an  exclamation,  made  a  hasty  appointment  with  myself 
for  the  doors  of  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  and  fled  to 
examine  manifests  and  interview  the  skipper.  I  finished 
my  cigarette  with  the  deliberation  of  a  man  at  the  end 
of  many  picnics ;  reflecting  to  myself  that  of  all  forms 
of  the  dollar  hunt,  this  wrecking  had  by  far  the  most 
address  to  my  imagination.  Even  as  I  went  down  town, 
in  the  brisk  bustle  and  chill  of  the  familiar  San  Francisco 
thoroughfares,  I  was  haunted  by  a  vision  of  the  wreck, 
baking  so  far  away  in  the  strong  sun,  under  a  cloud  of 
sea-birds ;  and  even  then,  and  for  no  better  reason,  my 
heart  inclined  towards  the  adventure.  If  not  myself, 
something  that  was  mine,  some  one  at  least  in  my  em- 
ployment should  voyage  to  that  ocean-bounded  pin- 
point and  descend  to  that  deserted  cabin. 

Pinkerton  met  me  at  the  appointed  moment,  pinched 
of  lip  and  more  than  usually  erect  of  bearing,  like  one 
conscious  of  great  resolves. 

"Well?"  I  asked. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "it  might  be  better,  and  it  might 
be  worse.  This  Captain  Trent  is  a  remarkably  honest 
fellow  —  one  out  of  a  thousand.  As  soon  as  he  knew  I 
was  in  the  market,  he  owned  up  about  the  rice  in  so 
many  words.  By  his  calculation,  if  there's  thirty  mats 
of  it  saved,  it's  an  outside  figure.  However,  the  mani- 
fest was  cheerier.  There's  about  five  thousand  dollars 
of  the  whole  value  in  silks  and  teas  and  nut-oils  and 

161 


THE  WRECKER 

that,  all  in  the  lazarette,  and  as  safe  as  if  it  was  in  Kear- 
ney Street.  The  brig  was  new  coppered  a  year  ago. 
There's  upwards  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  fathom  away- 
up  chain.  It's  not  a  bonanza,  but  there's  boodle  in  it; 
and  we'll  try  it  on." 

It  was  by  that  time  hard  on  ten  o'clock,  and  we  turned 
at  once  into  the  place  of  sale.  The  Flying  Scud,  although 
so  important  to  ourselves,  appeared  to  attract  a  very  hum- 
ble share  of  popular  attention.  The  auctioneer  was  sur- 
rounded by  perhaps  a  score  of  lookers-on,  big  fellows, 
for  the  most  part,  of  the  true  Western  build,  long  in  the 
leg,  broad  in  the  shoulder,  and  adorned  (to  a  plain  man's 
taste)  with  needless  finery.  A  jaunty,  ostentatious  com- 
radeship prevailed.  Bets  were  flying,  and  nicknames. 
"The  boys"  (as  they  would  have  called  themselves) 
were  very  boyish ;  and  it  was  plain  they  were  here  in 
mirth,  and  not  on  business.  Behind,  and  certainly  in 
strong  contrast  to  these  gentlemen,  I  could  detect  the 
figure  of  my  friend  Captain  Trent,  come  (as  I  could  very 
well  imagine  that  a  captain  would)  to  hear  the  last  of  his 
old  vessel.  Since  yesterday,  he  had  rigged  himself  anew 
in  ready-made  black  clothes,  not  very  aptly  fitted ;  the 
upper  left-hand  pocket  showing  a  corner  of  silk  hand- 
kerchief, the  lower,  on  the  other  side,  bulging  with  pa- 
pers. Pinkerton  had  just  given  this  man  a  high  char- 
acter. Certainly  he  seemed  to  have  been  very  frank,  and 
I  looked  at  him  again  to  trace  (if  possible)  that  virtue  in 
his  face.  It  was  red  and  broad  and  flustered  and  (I 
thought)  false.  The  whole  man  looked  sick  with  some 
unknown  anxiety;  and  as  he  stood  there,  unconscious 
of  my  observation,  he  tore  at  his  nails,  scowled  on  the 
floor,  or  glanced  suddenly,  sharply,  and  fearfully  at  pas- 

162 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE   "FLYING   SCUD" 

sers-by.  I  was  still  gazing  at  the  man  in  a  kind  of  fas- 
cination, when  the  sale  began. 

Some  preliminaries  were  rattled  through,  to  the  irrev- 
erent, uninterrupted  gambolling  of  the  boys ;  and  then, 
amid  a  trifle  more  attention,  the  auctioneer  sounded  for 
some  two  or  three  minutes  the  pipe  of  the  charmer. 
Fine  brig  —  new  copper  —  valuable  fittings  —  three  fine 
boats  —  remarkably  choice  cargo  —  what  the  auctioneer 
would  call  a  perfectly  safe  investment;  nay,  gentlemen, 
he  would  go  further,  he  would  put  a  figure  on  it:  he 
had  no  hesitation  (had  that  bold  auctioneer)  in  putting 
it  in  figures;  and  in  his  view,  what  with  this  and  that, 
and  one  thing  and  another,  the  purchaser  might  expect 
to  clear  a  sum  equal  to  the  entire  estimated  value  of  the 
cargo;  or,  gentlemen,  in  other  words,  a  sum  often  thou- 
sand dollars.  At  this  modest  computation  the  roof 
immediately  above  the  speaker's  head  (I  suppose, 
through  the  intervention  of  a  spectator  of  ventriloquial 
tastes)  uttered  a  clear  "Cock-a-doodle-doo!  — where- 
at all  laughed,  the  auctioneer  himself  obligingly  join- 
ing. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  what  shall  we  say,"  resumed  that 
gentleman,  plainly  ogling  Pinkerton, — "what  shall  we 
say  for  this  remarkable  opportunity  ?  " 

"One  hundred  dollars,"  said  Pinkerton. 

"One  hundred  dollars  from  Mr.  Pinkerton,"  went  the 
auctioneer,  "  one  hundred  dollars.  No  other  gentleman 
inclined  to  make  any  advance  ?  One  hundred  dollars, 
only  one  hundred  dollars  ..." 

The  auctioneer  was  droning  on  to  some  such  tune  as 
this,  and  I,  on  my  part,  was  watching  with  something  be- 
tween sympathy  and  amazement  the  undisguised  emo- 

163 


THE   WRECKER 

tfon  of  Captain  Trent,  when  we  were  all  startled  by  the 
interjection  of  a  bid. 

"  And  fifty,"  said  a  sharp  voice. 

Pinkerton,  the  auctioneer,  and  the  boys,  who  were  all 
equally  in  the  open  secret  of  the  ring,  were  now  all 
equally  and  simultaneously  taken  aback. 

• '  I  beg  your  pardon,  "said  the  auctioneer.  ■ '  Anybody 
bid?" 

"And  fifty,"  reiterated  the  voice,  which  I  was  now 
able  to  trace  to  its  origin,  on  the  lips  of  a  small,  unseemly 
rag  of  human-kind.  The  speaker's  skin  was  gray  and 
blotched;  he  spoke  in  a  kind  of  broken  song,  with  much 
variety  of  key;  his  gestures  seemed  (as  in  the  disease 
called  St.  Vitus's  dance)  to  be  imperfectly  under  control  ; 
he  was  badly  dressed ;  he  carried  himself  with  an  air  of 
shrinking  assumption,  as  though  he  were  proud  to  be 
where  he  was  and  to  do  what  he  was  doing,  and  yet 
half  expected  to  be  called  in  question  and  kicked  out. 
I  think  I  never  saw  a  man  more  of  a  piece;  and  the  type 
was  new  to  me;  I  had  never  before  set  eyes  upon  his 
parallel,  and  I  thought  instinctively  of  Balzac  and  the 
lower  regions  of  the  Comtdie  Humaine. 

Pinkerton  stared  a  moment  on  the  intruder  with  no 
friendly  eye,  tore  a  leaf  from  his  note-book,  and  scribbled 
a  line  in  pencil,  turned,  beckoned  a  messenger  boy,  and 
whispered  "To  Longhurst."  Next  moment,  the  boy 
had  sped  upon  his  errand,  and  Pinkerton  was  again 
facing  the  auctioneer. 

"Two  hundred  dollars,"  said  Jim. 

"And  fifty,"  said  the  enemy. 

"This  looks  lively,"  whispered  I  to  Pinkerton. 

"  Yes ;  the  little  beast  means  cold  drawn  biz, "  returned 
164 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

my  friend.  "Well,  he'll  have  to  have  a  lesson.  Wait 
till  I  see  Longhurst.     Three  hundred,"  he  added  aloud. 

"  And  fifty,"  came  the  echo. 

It  was  about  this  moment  when  my  eye  fell  again  on 
Captain  Trent.  A  deeper  shade  had  mounted  to  his 
crimson  face:  the  new  coat  was  unbuttoned  and  all 
flying  open ;  the  new  silk  handkerchief  in  busy  requisi- 
tion ;  and  the  man's  eye,  of  a  clear  sailor  blue,  shone 
glassy  with  excitement.  He  was  anxious  still,  but  now 
(if  I  could  read  a  face)  there  was  hope  in  his  anxiety. 

"Jim,"  I  whispered,  "look  at  Trent.  Bet  you  what 
you  please,  he  was  expecting  this." 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "there's  some  blame'  thing 
going  on  here."    And  he  renewed  his  bid. 

The  figure  had  run  up  into  the  neighbourhood  of  a 
thousand  when  I  was  aware  of  a  sensation  in  the  faces 
opposite,  and  looking  over  my  shoulder,  saw  a  very 
large,  bland,  handsome  man  come  strolling  forth  and 
make  a  little  signal  to  the  auctioneer. 

"One  word,  Mr.  Borden,"  said  he;  and  then  to  Jim, 
"Well,  Pink,  where  are  we  up  to  now ?" 

Pinkerton  gave  him  the  figure.  "I  ran  up  to  that 
on  my  own  responsibility,  Mr.  Longhurst,"  he  added, 
with  a  flush.     "  I  thought  it  the  square  thing." 

"And  so  it  was,"  said  Mr.  Longhurst,  patting  him 
kindly  on  the  shoulder,  like  a  gratified  uncle.  "Well, 
you  can  drop  out  now;  we  take  hold  ourselves.  You 
can  run  it  up  to  five  thousand ;  and  if  he  likes  to  go  be- 
yond that,  he's  welcome  to  the  bargain." 

"By  the  by,  who  is  he?"  asked  Pinkerton.  "He 
looks  away  down." 

"I've  sent  Billy  to  find  out."  And  at  the  very  mo- 
165 


THE  WRECKER 

ment  Mr.  Longhurst  received  from  the  hands  of  one  of 
the  expensive  young  gentlemen  a  folded  paper.  It  was 
passed  round  from  one  to  another  till  it  came  to  me,  and 
I  read:  "Harry  D.  Bellairs,  Attorney-at-Law ;  defended 
Clara  Varden;  twice  nearly  disbarred." 

"Well,  that  gets  me!"  observed  Mr.  Longhurst. 
"Who  can  have  put  up  a  shyster1  like  that ?  Nobody 
with  money,  that's  a  sure  thing.  Suppose  you  tried 
a  big  bluff?  I  think  I  would,  Pink.  Well,  ta-ta !  Your 
partner,  Mr.  Dodd  ?  Happy  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
your  acquaintance,  sir."     And  the  great  man  withdrew. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  Douglas  B.?"  whis- 
pered Pinkerton,  looking  reverently  after  him  as  he  de- 
parted. "Six  foot  of  perfect  gentleman  and  culture  to 
his  boots." 

During  this  interview  the  auction  had  stood  trans- 
parently arrested,  the  auctioneer,  the  spectators,  and 
even  Bellairs,  all  well  aware  that  Mr.  Longhurst  was 
the  principal,  and  Jim  but  a  speaking-trumpet.  But 
now  that  the  Olympian  Jupiter  was  gone,  Mr.  Borden 
thought  proper  to  affect  severity. 

"Come,  come,  Mr.  Pinkerton.  Any  advance?"  he 
snapped. 

And  Pinkerton,  resolved  on  the  big  bluff,  replied, 
"Two  thousand  dollars." 

Bellairs  preserved  his  composure.  "And  fifty,"  said 
he.  But  there  was  a  stir  among  the  onlookers,  and 
what  was  of  more  importance,  Captain  Trent  had  turned 
pale  and  visibly  gulped. 

"Pitch  it  in  again,  Jim,"  said  I.     "Trent  is  weaken- 

l  A  low  lawyer. 
166 


THE   WRECK   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

"Three  thousand,"  said  Jim. 

"And  fifty,"  said  Bellairs. 

And  then  the  bidding  returned  to  its  original  move- 
ment by  hundreds  and  fifties ;  but  I  had  been  able  in 
the  meanwhile  to  draw  two  conclusions.  In  the  first 
place,  Bellairs  had  made  his  last  advance  with  a  smile 
of  gratified  vanity ;  and  I  could  see  the  creature  was 
glorying  in  the  kudos  of  an  unusual  position  and  secure 
of  ultimate  success.  In  the  second,  Trent  had  once 
more  changed  colour  at  the  thousand  leap,  and  his  re- 
lief, when  he  heard  the  answering  fifty,  was  manifest 
and  unaffected.  Here  then  was  a  problem :  both  were 
presumably  in  the  same  interest,  yet  the  one  was  not  in 
the  confidence  of  the  other.  Nor  was  this  all.  A  few 
bids  later  it  chanced  that  my  eye  encountered  that  of 
Captain  Trent,  and  his,  which  glittered  with  excitement, 
was  instantly,  and  I  thought  guiltily,  withdrawn.  He 
wished,  then,  to  conceal  his  interest  ?  As  Jim  had  said, 
there  was  some  blamed  thing  going  on.  And  for  cer- 
tain, here  were  these  two  men,  so  strangely  united,  so 
strangely  divided,  both  sharp-set  to  keep  the  wreck  from 
us,  and  that  at  an  exorbitant  figure. 

Was  the  wreck  worth  more  than  we  supposed  ?  A 
sudden  heat  was  kindled  in  my  brain;  the  bids  were 
nearing  Longhurst's  limit  of  five  thousand;  another 
minute,  and  all  would  be  too  late.  Tearing  a  leaf  from 
my  sketch-book,  and  inspired  (I  suppose)  by  vanity  in 
my  own  powers  of  inference  and  observation,  I  took  the 
one  mad  decision  of  my  life.  "If you  care  to  go  ahead, ' ' 
I  wrote,  "  I'm  in  for  all  I'm  worth.  " 

Jim  read,  and  looked  round  at  me  like  one  bewildered ; 
then    his   eyes   lightened,  and   turning    again    to  the 

167 


THE  WRECKER 

auctioneer,  he  bid,  "  Five  thousand  one  hundred 
dollars." 

"  And  fifty,"  said  monotonous  Bellairs. 

Presently  Pinkerton  scribbled,  "What  can  it  be}  " 
and  I  answered,  still  on  paper:  f,l  can't  imagine ;  but 
there's  something.  Watch  Bellairs ;  he'll  go  up  to  the 
ten  thousand;  see  if  he  don't. ' ' 

And  he  did,  and  we  followed.  Long  before  this, 
word  had  gone  abroad  that  there  was  battle  royal :  we 
were  surrounded  by  a  crowd  that  looked  on  wondering; 
and  when  Pinkerton  had  offered  ten  thousand  dollars 
(the  outside  value  of  the  cargo,  even  were  it  safe  in  San 
Francisco  Bay),  and  Bellairs,  smirking  from  ear  to  ear 
to  be  the  centre  of  so  much  attention,  had  jerked  out 
his  answering,  "And  fifty,"  wonder  deepened  to  ex- 
citement. 

"Ten  thousand  one  hundred,"  said  Jim;  and  even 
as  he  spoke,  he  made  a  sudden  gesture  with  his  hand, 
his  face  changed,  and  I  could  see  that  he  had  guessed, 
or  thought  that  he  had  guessed,  the  mystery.  As  he 
scrawled  another  memorandum  in  his  note-book,  his 
hand  shook  like  a  telegraph-operator's. 

"Chinese  ship,"  ran  the  legend;  and  then,  in  big, 
tremulous  half-text,  and  with  a  flourish  that  overran 
the  margin,  "  Opium  ! ' ' 

To  be  sure!  thought  I:  this  must  be  the  secret.  I 
knew  that  scarce  a  ship  came  in  from  any  Chinese 
port,  but  she  carried  somewhere,  behind  a  bulkhead,  or 
in  some  cunning  hollow  of  the  beams,  a  nest  of  the 
valuable  poison.  Doubtless  there  was  some  such  trea- 
sure on  the  Flying  Scud.  How  much  was  it  worth  ? 
We  knew  not  we  were  gambling  in  the  dark;   but 

168 


THE   WRECK   OF  THE   iC  FLYING  SCUD" 

Trent  knew,  and  Bellairs;  and  we  could  only  watch 
and  judge. 

By  this  time  neither  Pinkerton  nor  I  were  of  sound 
mind.  Pinkerton  was  beside  himself,  his  eyes  like 
lamps.  I  shook  in  every  member.  To  any  stranger 
entering  (say)  in  the  course  of  the  fifteenth  thousand, 
we  should  probably  have  cut  a  poorer  figure  than  Bel- 
lairs himself.  But  we  did  not  pause;  and  the  crowd 
watched  us,  now  in  silence,  now  with  a  buzz  of  whis- 
pers. 

Seventeen  thousand  had  been  reached,  when  Douglas 
B.  Longhurst,  forcing  his  way  into  the  opposite  row  of 
faces,  conspicuously  and  repeatedly  shook  his  head  at 
Jim.  Jim's  answer  was  a  note  of  two  words:  "My 
racket!  "  which,  when  the  great  man  had  perused,  he 
shook  his  finger  warningly,  and  departed,  I  thought, 
with  a  sorrowful  countenance. 

Although  Mr.  Longhurst  knew  nothing  of  Bellairs, 
the  shady  lawyer  knew  all  about  the  Wrecker  Boss.  He 
had  seen  him  enter  the  ring  with  manifest  expectation ; 
he  saw  him  depart,  and  the  bids  continue,  with  mani- 
fest surprise  and  disappointment.  "  Hullo !  "  he  plainly 
thought,  "this  is  not  the  ring  I'm  fighting,  then?" 
And  he  determined  to  put  on  a  spurt. 

"Eighteen  thousand,"  said  he. 

"  And  fifty,"  said  Jim,  taking  a  leaf  out  of  his  adver- 
sary's book. 

"Twenty  thousand,"  from  Bellairs. 

"And  fifty,"  from  Jim,  with  a  little  nervous  titter. 

And  with  one  consent  they  returned  to  the  old  pace, 
only  now  it  was  Bellairs  who  took  the  hundreds,  and 
Jim  who  did  the  fifty  business.     But  by  this  time  our 

169 


THE   WRECKER 

idea  had  gone  abroad.  I  could  hear  the  word  "opium  " 
pass  from  mouth  to  mouth;  and  by  the  looks  directed 
at  us,  I  could  see  we  were  supposed  to  have  some  pri- 
vate information.  And  here  an  incident  occurred  highly 
typical  of  San  Francisco.  Close  at  my  back  there  had 
stood  for  some  time  a  stout,  middle-aged  gentleman, 
with  pleasant  eyes,  hair  pleasantly  grizzled,  and  a  ruddy, 
pleasing  face.  All  of  a  sudden,  he  appeared  as  a  third 
competitor,  skied  the  Flying  Scud  with  four  fat  bids  of 
a  thousand  dollars  each,  and  then  as  suddenly  fled  the 
field,  remaining  thenceforth  (as  before)  a  silent,  inter- 
ested spectator. 

Ever  since  Mr.  Longhurst's  useless  intervention,  Bel- 
lairs  had  seemed  uneasy;  and  at  this  new  attack,  he 
began  (in  his  turn)  to  scribble  a  note  between  the  bids. 
I  imagined  naturally  enough  that  it  would  go  to  Captain 
Trent;  but  when  it  was  done,  and  the  writer  turned  and 
looked  behind  him  in  the  crowd,  to  my  unspeakable 
amazement,  he  did  not  seem  to  remark  the  captain's 
presence. 

"Messenger  boy,  messenger  boy!"  I  heard  him  say. 
"Somebody  call  me  a  messenger  boy." 

At  last  somebody  did,  but  it  was  not  the  captain. 

"He's  sending  for  instructions, ' '  I  wrote  to  Pinkerton. 

"  For  money, ' '  he  wrote  back.  "  Shall  I  strike  out? 
I  think  this  is  the  time/' 

I  nodded. 

"  Thirty  thousand,"  said  Pinkerton,  making  a  leap  of 
close  upon  three  thousand  dollars. 

I  could  see  doubt  in  Bellairs's  eye;  then,  sudden  reso- 
lution.    "Thirty-five  thousand,"  said  he. 

"  Forty  thousand,"  said  Pinkerton. 
170 


THE   WRECK  OF  THE   "FLYING   SCUD" 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  Bellairs's  coun- 
tenance was  as  a  book;  and  then,  not  much  too  soon 
for  the  impending  hammer,  "  Forty  thousand  and  five 
dollars,"  said  he. 

Pinkerton  and  I  exchanged  eloquent  glances.  We 
were  of  one  mind.  Bellairs  had  tried  a  bluff;  now  he 
perceived  his  mistake,  and  was  bidding  against  time; 
he  was  trying  to  spin  out  the  sale  until  the  messenger 
boy  returned. 

"Forty-five  thousand  dollars,"  said  Pinkerton:  his 
voice  was  like  a  ghost's  and  tottered  with  emotion. 

"Forty-five  thousand  and  five  dollars,"  said  Bellairs. 

"Fifty  thousand,"  said  Pinkerton. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Pinkerton.  Did  I  hear  you 
make  an  advance,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  auctioneer. 

"I  —  I  have  a  difficulty  in  speaking,"  gasped  Jim. 
"  It's  fifty  thousand,  Mr.  Borden." 

Bellairs  was  on  his  feet  in  a  moment.  "Auctioneer," 
he  said,  "  I  have  to  beg  the  favour  of  three  moments  at 
the  telephone.  In  this  matter,  I  am  acting  on  behalf  of 
a  certain  party  to  whom  I  have  just  written " 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  of  this,"  said  the 
auctioneer,  brutally.  "I  am  here  to  sell  this  wreck. 
Do  you  make  any  advance  on  fifty  thousand?" 

"I  have  the  honour  to  explain  to  you,  sir,"  returned 
Bellairs,  with  a  miserable  assumption  of  dignity.  "Fifty 
thousand  was  the  figure  named  by  my  principal;  but  if 
you  will  give  me  the  small  favour  of  two  moments  at 
the  telephone " 

"  O,  nonsense!  "  said  the  auctioneer.  "  If  you  make 
no  advance,  I'll  knock  it  down  to  Mr.  Pinkerton." 

"  I  warn  you,"  cried  the  attorney,  with  sudden  shrill- 
171 


THE  WRECKER 

ness.  "  Have  a  care  what  you're  about.  You  are  here 
to  sell  for  the  underwriters,  let  me  tell  you  —  not  to  act 
for  Mr.  Douglas  Longhurst.  This  sale  has  been  already 
disgracefully  interrupted  to  allow  that  person  to  hold  a 
consultation  with  his  minions.  It  has  been  much  com- 
mented on." 

"  There  was  no  complaint  at  the  time,"  said  the  auc- 
tioneer, manifestly  discountenanced.  "You  should 
have  complained  at  the  time." 

"  I  am  not  here  to  conduct  this  sale,"  replied  Bellairs; 
"lam  not  paid  for  that." 

"Well,  I  am,  you  see,"  retorted  the  auctioneer,  his 
impudence  quite  restored ;  and  he  resumed  his  sing-song. 
"  Any  advance  on  fifty  thousand  dollars  ?  No  advance 
on  fifty  thousand  ?  No  advance,  gentlemen  ?  Going  at 
fifty  thousand,  the  wreck  of  the  brig  Flying  Scud — go- 
ing—  going  —  gone !  " 

"My  God,  Jim,  can  we  pay  the  money  ?  "  I  cried,  as  the 
stroke  of  the  hammer  seemed  to  recall  me  from  a  dream. 

"It's  got  to  be  raised,"  said  he,  white  as  a  sheet. 
"  It'll  be  a  hell  of  a  strain,  Loudon.  The  credit's  good 
for  it,  I  think ;  but  I  shall  have  to  get  around.  Write  me 
a  cheque  for  your  stuff.  Meet  you  at  the  Occidental  in 
an  hour." 

I  wrote  my  cheque  at  a  desk,  and  I  declare  I  could 
never  have  recognised  my  signature.  Jim  was  gone  in 
a  moment ;  Trent  had  vanished  even  earlier ;  only  Bellairs 
remained  exchanging  insults  with  the  auctioneer;  and 
behold!  as  I  pushed  my  way  out  of  the  exchange,  who 
should  run  full  tilt  into  my  arms,  but  the  messenger  boy  ? 

It  was  by  so  near  a  margin  that  we  became  the  owners 

of  the  Flying  Scud. 

172 


CHAPTER   X 

IN   WHICH   THE   CREW    VANISH 

At  the  door  of  the  exchange,  I  found  myself  along- 
side of  the  short,  middle-aged  gentleman  who  had  made 
an  appearance,  so  vigorous  and  so  brief,  in  the  great 
battle. 

"  Congratulate  you,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  said.  "You  and 
your  friend  stuck  to  your  guns  nobly." 

"No  thanks  to  you,  sir,"  I  replied,  "running  us  up  a 
thousand  at  a  time,  and  tempting  all  the  speculators  in 
San  Francisco  to  come  and  have  a  try." 

"O,  that  was  temporary  insanity,"  said  he;  "and  I 
thank  the  higher  powers  I  am  still  a  free  man.  Walk- 
ing this  way,  Mr.  Dodd  ?  I'll  walk  along  with  you. 
It's  pleasant  for  an  old  fogy  like  myself  to  see  the  young 
bloods  in  the  ring;  I've  done  some  pretty  wild  gambles 
in  my  time  in  this  very  city,  when  it  was  a  smaller 
place  and  I  was  a  younger  man.  Yes,  I  know  you,  Mr. 
Dodd.  By  sight,  I  may  say  I  know  you  extremely  well, 
you  and  your  followers,  the  fellows  in  the  kilts,  eh  ? 
Pardon  me.  But  I  have  the  misfortune  to  own  a  little 
box  on  the  Saucelito  shore.  I'll  be  glad  to  see  you  there 
any  Sunday  —  without  the  fellows  in  kilts,  you  know; 
and  I  can  give  you  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  show  you  the 
best  collection  of  Arctic  voyages  in  the  States.    Morgan 

•73 


THE  WRECKER 

is  my  name — Judge  Morgan  —  a  Welshman  and  a  forty- 
niner/' 

"O,  if  you're  a  pioneer,"  cried  I,  "come  to  me,  and 
I'll  provide  you  with  an  axe." 

"You'll  want  your  axes  for  yourself,  I  fancy,"  he  re- 
turned, with  one  of  his  quick  looks.  "Unless  you  have 
private  knowledge,  there  will  be  a  good  deal  of  rather 
violent  wrecking  to  do  before  you  find  that  —  opium,  do 
you  call  it?" 

"Well,  it's  either  opium,  or  we  are  stark,  staring 
mad,"  I  replied.  "  But  I  assure  you  we  have  no  private 
information.  We  went  in  (as  I  suppose  you  did  your- 
self) on  observation." 

"An  observer,  sir?"  inquired  the  judge. 

"  I  may  say  it  is  my  trade  —  or,  rather,  was,"  said  I. 

"Well,  now,  and  what  did  you  think  of  Bellairs?" 
he  asked. 

"Very  little  indeed,"  said  I. 

"I  may  tell  you,"  continued  the  judge,  "that  to  me, 
the  employment  of  a  fellow  like  that  appears  inexplica- 
ble. I  knew  him ;  he  knows  me  too ;  he  has  often  heard 
from  me  in  court;  and  I  assure  you  the  man  is  utterly 
blown  upon;  it  is  not  safe  to  trust  him  with  a  dollar; 
and  here  we  find  him  dealing  up  to  fifty  thousand.  I 
can't  think  who  can  have  so  trusted  him,  but  I  am  very 
sure  it  was  a  stranger  in  San  Francisco." 

"Some  one  for  the  owners,  I  suppose,"  said  I. 

"Surely  not!"  exclaimed  the  judge.  "Owners  in 
London  can  have  nothing  to  say  to  opium  smuggled 
between  Hong  Kong  and  San  Francisco.  I  should 
rather  fancy  they  would  be  the  last  to  hear  of  it  — until 
the  ship  was  seized.     No;  I  was  thinking  of  the  cap- 

174 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

tain.  But  where  would  he  get  the  money  ?  above  all, 
after  having  laid  out  so  much  to  buy  the  stuff  in  China. 
Unless,  indeed,  he  were  acting  for  some  one  in  'Frisco; 
and  in  that  case  —  here  we  go  round  again  in  the  vicious 
circle  —  Bellairs  would  not  have  been  employed." 

"  I  think  I  can  assure  you  it  was  not  the  captain,"  said 
I;  "for  he  and  Bellairs  are  not  acquainted." 

"Wasn't  that  the  captain,  with  the  red  face  and  col- 
oured handkerchief?  He  seemed  to  me  to  follow  Bel- 
lairs's  game  with  the  most  thrilling  interest,"  objected 
Mr.  Morgan. 

"  Perfectly  true,"  said  I;  "Trent  is  deeply  interested; 
he  very  likely  knew  Bellairs,  and  he  certainly  knew  what 
he  was  there  for;  but  I  can  put  my  hand  in  the  fire  that 
Bellairs  didn't  know  Trent." 

' '  Another  singularity, "  observed  the  judge.  ' '  Well, 
we  have  had  a  capital  forenoon.  But  you  take  an  old 
lawyer's  advice,  and  get  to  Midway  Island  as  fast  as  you 
can.  There's  a  pot  of  money  on  the  table,  and  Bellairs 
and  Co.  are  not  the  men  to  stick  at  trifles." 

With  this  parting  counsel,  Judge  Morgan  shook  hands 
and  made  off  along  Montgomery  Street,  while  I  entered 
the  Occidental  Hotel,  on  the  steps  of  which  we  had  fin- 
ished our  conversation.  I  was  well  known  to  the  clerks, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  understood  that  I  was  there  to 
wait  for  Pinkerton  and  lunch,  I  was  invited  to  a  seat 
inside  the  counter.  Here,  then,  in  a  retired  corner,  I 
was  beginning  to  come  a  little  to  myself  after  these  so 
violent  experiences,  when  who  should  come  hurrying 
in,  and  (after  a  moment  with  a  clerk)  fly  to  one  of  the 
telephone  boxes  but  Mr.  Henry  D.  Bellairs  in  person  ? 
Call  it  what  you  will,  but  the  impulse  was  irresistible, 

175 


THE  WRECKER 

and  I  rose  and  took  a  place  immediately  at  the  man's 
back.  It  may  be  some  excuse  that  I  had  often  practised 
this  very  innocent  form  of  eavesdropping  upon  strangers, 
and  for  fun.  Indeed,  I  scarce  know  anything  that  gives 
a  lower  view  of  man's  intelligence  than  to  overhear  (as 
you  thus  do)  one  side  of  a  communication. 

''Central,"  said  the  attorney,  "2241  and  584  B"  (or 
some  such  numbers) — "  Who's  that?  —  All  right  — 
Mr.  Bellairs  —  Occidental;  the  wires  are  fouled  in  the 
other  place  —  Yes,  about  three  minutes  —  Yes  —  Yes  — 
Your  figure,  I  am  sorry  to  say  —  No  —  I  had  no  au- 
thority—  Neither  more  nor  less  —  I  have  every  reason 
to  suppose  so  —  O,  Pinkerton,  Montana  Block  —  Yes  — 
Yes  —  Very  good,  sir  —  As  you  will,  sir  —  Disconnect 
584  B." 

Bellairs  turned  to  leave;  at  sight  of  me  behind  him, 
up  flew  his  hands,  and  he  winced  and  cringed,  as  though 
in  fear  of  bodily  attack.  "  O,  it's  you!  "  he  cried;  and 
then,  somewhat  recovered,  "Mr.  Pinkerton's  partner,  I 
believe  ?  I  am  pleased  to  see  you,  sir  —  to  congratulate 
you  on  your  late  success."  And  with  that  he  was  gone, 
obsequiously  bowing  as  he  passed. 

And  now  a  madcap  humour  came  upon  me.  It  was 
plain  Bellairs  had  been  communicating  with  his  prin- 
cipal; I  knew  the  number,  if  not  the  name;  should  I 
ring  up  at  once,  it  was  more  than  likely  he  would  re- 
turn in  person  to  the  telephone;  why  should  not  I  dash 
(vocally)  into  the  presence  of  this  mysterious  person, 
and  have  some  fun  for  my  money  ?    I  pressed  the  bell. 

"Central,"  said  I,  "connect  again  2241  and  584  B." 

A  phantom  central  repeated  the  numbers ;  there  was 
a  pause,  and  then  "  Two  two  four  one,"  came  in  a  tiny 

176 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

voice  into  my  ear —  a  voice  with  the  English  sing-song 
—  the  voice  plainly  of  a  gentleman.  "Is  that  you 
again,  Mr.  Bellairs  ?"  it  trilled.  "I  tell  you  it's  no  use. 
Is  that  you,  Mr.  Bellairs  ?    Who  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  only  want  to  put  a  single  question,"  said  I,  civilly. 
' '  Why  do  you  want  to  buy  the  Flying  Scud  ?  ' J 

No  answer  came.  The  telephone  vibrated  and 
hummed  in  miniature  with  all  the  numerous  talk  of  a 
great  city;  but  the  voice  of  2241  was  silent.  Once  and 
twice  I  put  my  question;  but  the  tiny,  sing-song  Eng- 
lish voice,  I  heard  no  more.  The  man,  then,  had  fled  ? 
fled  from  an  impertinent  question  ?  It  scarce  seemed 
natural  to  me;  unless  on  the  principle  that  the  wicked 
fleeth  when  no  man  pursueth.  I  took  the  telephone 
list  and  turned  the  number  up :  "2241,  Mrs.  Keane,  res. 
942  Mission  Street."  And  that,  short  of  driving  to  the 
house  and  renewing  my  impertinence  in  person,  was  all 
that  I  could  do. 

Yet,  as  I  resumed  my  seat  in  the  corner  of  the  office, 
I  was  conscious  of  a  new  element  of  the  uncertain,  the 
underhand,  perhaps  even  the  dangerous,  in  our  adven- 
ture; and  there  was  now  a  new  picture  in  my  mental 
gallery,  to  hang  beside  that  of  the  wreck  under  its  can- 
opy of  sea-birds  and  of  Captain  Trent  mopping  his  red 
brow  —  the  picture  of  a  man  with  a  telephone  dice-box 
to  his  ear,  and  at  the  small  voice  of  a  single  question, 
struck  suddenly  as  white  as  ashes. 

From  these  considerations  I  was  awakened  by  the 
striking  of  the  clock.  An  hour  and  nearly  twenty  min- 
utes had  elapsed  since  Pinkerton  departed  for  the  money : 
he  was  twenty  minutes  behind  time;  and  to  me  who 
knew  so  well  his  gluttonous  despatch  of  business  and 

177 


THE  WRECKER 

had  so  frequently  admired  his  iron  punctuality,  the  fact 
spoke  volumes.  The  twenty  minutes  slowly  stretched 
into  an  hour;  the  hour  had  nearly  extended  to  a  second; 
and  I  still  sat  in  my  corner  of  the  office,  or  paced  the 
marble  pavement  of  the  hall,  a  prey  to  the  most  wretched 
anxiety  and  penitence.  The  hour  for  lunch  was  nearly 
over  before  I  remembered  that  I  had  not  eaten.  Heaven 
knows  I  had  no  appetite;  but  there  might  still  be  much 
to  do  —  it  was  needful  I  should  keep  myself  in  proper 
trim,  if  it  were  only  to  digest  the  now  too  probable  bad 
news;  and  leaving  word  at  the  office  for  Pinkerton,  I 
sat  down  to  table  and  called  for  soup,  oysters,  and  a 
pint  of  champagne. 

I  was  not  long  set,  before  my  friend  returned.  He 
looked  pale  and  rather  old,  refused  to  hear  of  food,  and 
called  for  tea. 

"I  suppose  all's  up?"  said  I,  with  an  incredible 
°inking. 

''No,"  he  replied;  "I've  pulled  it  through,  Loudon; 
just  pulled  it  through.  I  couldn't  have  raised  another 
cent  in  all  'Frisco.  People  don't  like  it;  Longhurst  even 
went  back  on  me;  said  he  wasn't  a  three-card-monte 
man." 

"Well,  what's  the  odds?"  said  I.  "That's  all  we 
wanted,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"Loudon,  I  tell  you  I've  had  to  pay  blood  for  that 
money,"  cried  my  friend,  with  almost  savage  energy 
and  gloom.  "It's  all  on  ninety  days,  too;  I  couldn't 
get  another  day  —  not  another  day.  If  we  go  ahead 
with  this  affair,  Loudon,  you'll  have  to  go  yourself  and 
make  the  fur  fly.  I'll  stay  of  course  —  I've  got  to  stay 
and  face  the  trouble  in  this  city ;  though,  I  tell  you,  I 

178 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

just  long  to  go.  I  would  show  these  fat  brutes  of 
sailors  what  work  was;  I  would  be  all  through  that 
wreck  and  out  at  the  other  end,  before  they  had  boosted 
themselves  upon  the  deck!  But  you'll  do  your  level 
best,  Loudon ;  I  depend  on  you  for  that.  You  must  be 
all  fire  and  grit  and  dash  from  the  word  'go.'  That 
schooner  and  the  boodle  on  board  of  her  are  bound 
to  be  here  before  three  months,  or  it's  B.  U.  S.  T. — 
bust." 

"I'll  swear  I'll  do  my  best,  Jim;  I'll  work  double 
tides,"  said  I.  "It  is  my  fault  that  you  are  in  this 
thing,  and  I'll  get  you  out  again  or  kill  myself.  But 
what  is  that  you  say  ?  '  If  we  go  ahead  ? '  Have  we 
any  choice,  then  ?  " 

"I'm  coming  to  that,"  said  Jim.  "It  isn't  that  I 
doubt  the  investment.  Don't  blame  yourself  for  that; 
you  showed  a  fine,  sound  business  instinct:  I  always 
knew  it  was  in  you,  but  then  it  ripped  right  out.  I 
guess  that  little  beast  of  an  attorney  knew  what  he  was 
doing ;  and  he  wanted  nothing  better  than  to  go  beyond. 
No,  there's  profit  in  the  deal;  it's  not  that;  it's  these 
ninety-day  bills,  and  the  strain  I've  given  the  credit,  for 
I've  been  up  and  down,  borrowing,  and  begging  and 
bribing  to  borrow.  I  don't  believe  there's  another  man 
but  me  in  'Frisco,"  he  cried,  with  a  sudden  fervour  of 
self  admiration,  "who  could  have  raised  that  last  ten 
thousand!  —  Then  there's  another  thing.  I  had  hoped 
you  might  have  peddled  that  opium  through  the 
islands,  which  is  safer  and  more  profitable.  But  with 
this  three-month  limit,  you  must  make  tracks  for  Hon- 
olulu straight,  and  communicate  by  steamer.  I'll  try 
to  put  up  something  for  you  there;  I'll  hav(   a  man 

179 


THE   WRECKER 

spoken  to  who's  posted  on  that  line  of  biz.  Keep  a 
bright  lookout  for  him  as  soon's  you  make  the  islands; 
for  it's  on  the  cards  he  might  pick  you  up  at  sea  in  a 
whaleboat  or  a  steam-launch,  and  bring  the  dollars 
right  on  board." 

It  shows  how  much  I  had  suffered  morally  during  my 
sojourn  in  San  Francisco,  that  even  now,  when  our  for- 
tunes trembled  in  the  balance,  I  should  have  consented 
to  become  a  smuggler  and  (of  all  things)  a  smuggler  of 
opi".m.  Yet  I  did,  and  that  in  silence;  without  a  pro- 
test, not  without  a  twinge. 

"And  suppose,"  said  I,  "suppose  the  opium  is  so 
securely  hidden  that  I  can't  get  hands  on  it." 

"Then  you  will  stay  there  till  that  brig  is  kindling- 
wood,  and  stay  and  split  that  kindling-wood  with  your 
penknife,"  cried  Pinkerton.  "The  stuff  is  there;  we 
know  that;  and  it  must  be  found.  But  all  this  is  only 
the  one  string  to  our  bow  —  though  I  tell  you  I've  gone 
into  it  head-first,  as  if  it  was  our  bottom  dollar.  Why, 
the  first  thing  I  did  before  I'd  raised  a  cent,  and  with 
this  other  notion  in  my  head  already  —  the  first  thing  I 
did  was  to  secure  the  schooner.  The  Nora  Creina, 
she  is,  sixty-four  tons,  quite  big  enough  for  our  purpose 
since  the  rice  is  spoiled,  and  the  fastest  thing  of  her  ton- 
nage out  of  San  Francisco.  For  a  bonus  of  two  hundred, 
and  a  monthly  charter  of  three,  I  have  her  for  my  own 
time;  wages  and  provisions,  say  four  hundred  more:  a 
drop  in  the  bucket.  They  began  firing  the  cargo  out  of 
her  (she  was  part  loaded)  near  two  hours  ago;  and 
about  the  same  time  John  Smith  got  the  order  for  the 
stores.     That's  what  I  call  business." 

"No  doubt  of  that,"  said  I.     "  But  the  other  notion." 
1 80 


IN   WHICH    THE   CREW   VANISH 

"Well,  here  it  is,"  said  Jim.  "You  agree  with  me 
that  Bellairs  was  ready  to  go  higher  ?  " 

I  saw  where  he  was  coming.  "Yes, — and  why 
shouldn't  he  ?  "  said  I.     "Is  that  the  line  ?  " 

"That's  the  line,  Loudon  Dodd,"  assented  Jim.  "If 
Bellairs  and  his  principal  have  any  desire  to  go  me  bet- 
ter, I'm  their  man." 

A  sudden  thought,  a  sudden  fear,  shot  into  my  mind. 
What  if  I  had  been  right  ?  What  if  my  childish  pleas- 
antry had  frightened  the  principal  away,  and  thus  de- 
stroyed our  chance  ?  Shame  closed  my  mouth ;  I  began 
instinctively  a  long  course  of  reticence;  and  it  was  with- 
out a  word  of  my  meeting  with  Bellairs,  or  my  discovery 
of  the  address  in  Mission  Street,  that  I  continued  the 
discussion. 

"Doubtless  fifty  thousand  was  originally  mentioned 
as  a  round  sum,"  said  I,  "or  at  least,  so  Bellairs  sup- 
posed. But  at  the  same  time  it  may  be  an  outside  sum ; 
and  to  cover  the  expenses  we  have  already  incurred  for 
the  money  and  the  schooner — I  am  far  from  blaming 
you;  I  see  how  needful  it  was  to  be  ready  for  either 
event  —  but  to  cover  them  we  shall  want  a  rather  large 
advance." 

"  Bellairs  will  go  to  sixty  thousand;  it's  my  belief,  if 
he  were  properly  handled,  he  would  take  the  hundred," 
replied  Pinkerton.  "Look  back  on  the  way  the  sale  ran 
at  the  end." 

"That  is  my  own  impression  as  regards  Bellairs,"  I 
admitted.  "The  point  I  am  trying  to  make  is  that 
Bellairs  himself  may  be  mistaken;  that  what  he  sup- 
posed to  be  a  round  sum  was  really  an  outside  figure." 

"  Well,  Loudon,  if  that  is  so,"  said  Jim,  with  extraor- 


THE  WRECKER 

dinary  gravity  of  face  and  voice,  "  if  that  is  so,  let  him 
take  the  Flying  Scud  at  fifty  thousand,  and  joy  go  with 
her!    I  prefer  the  loss." 

"  Is  that  so,  Jim  ?  Are  we  dipped  as  bad  as  that  ?  " 
I  cried. 

"  We've  put  our  hand  further  out  than  we  can  pull  it 
in  again,  Loudon,"  he  replied.  "Why,  man,  that  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  before  we  get  clear  again,  will  cost  us 
nearer  seventy.  Yes,  it  figures  up  overhead  to  more 
than  ten  per  cent,  a  month ;  and  I  could  do  no  better, 
and  there  isn't  the  man  breathing  could  have  done  as 
well.  It  was  a  miracle,  Loudon.  I  couldn't  but  admire 
myself.  O,  if  we  had  just  the  four  months!  And  you 
know,  Loudon,  it  may  still  be  done.  With  your  en- 
ergy and  charm,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  you 
can  run  that  schooner  as  you  ran  one  of  your  picnics ; 
and  we  may  have  luck.  And,  O,  man !  if  we  do  pull 
it  through,  what  a  dashing  operation  it  will  be!  What 
an  advertisement!  what  a  thing  to  talk  of,  and  remem- 
ber all  our  lives!  However,"  he  broke  off  suddenly, 
"we  must  try  the  safe  thing  first.  Here's  for  the 
shyster!" 

There  was  another  struggle  in  my  mind,  whether  I 
should  even  now  admit  my  knowledge  of  the  Mission 
Street  address.  But  I  had  let  the  favourable  moment 
slip.  I  had  now,  which  made  it  the  more  awkward, 
not  merely  the  original  discovery,  but  my  late  sup- 
pression to  confess.  I  could  not  help  reasoning,  be- 
sides, that  the  more  natural  course  was  to  approach  the 
principal  by  the  road  of  his  agent's  office;  and  there 
weighed  upon  my  spirits  a  conviction  that  we  were 
already  too  late,  and  that  the  man  was  gone  two  hours 

182 


IN   WHICH   THE   CREW   VANISH 

ago.  Once  more,  then,  I  held  my  peace ;  and  after  an 
exchange  of  words  at  the  telephone  to  assure  ourselves 
he  was  at  home,  we  set  out  for  the  attorney's  office. 

The  endless  streets  of  any  American  city  pass,  from 
one  end  to  another,  through  strange  degrees  and  vicissi- 
tudes of  splendour  and  distress,  running  under  the  same 
name  between  monumental  warehouses,  the  dens  and 
taverns  of  thieves,  and  the  sward  and  shrubbery  of 
villas.  In  San  Francisco,  the  sharp  inequalities  of  the 
ground,  and  the  sea  bordering  on  so  many  sides,  greatly 
exaggerate  these  contrasts.  The  street  for  which  we 
were  now  bound  took  its  rise  among  blowing  sands, 
somewhere  in  view  of  the  Lone  Mountain  Cemetery ;  ran 
for  a  term  across  that  rather  windy  Olympus  of  Nob 
Hill,  or  perhaps  just  skirted  its  frontier;  passed  almost 
immediately  after  through  a  stage  of  little  houses,  rather 
impudently  painted,  and  offering  to  the  eye  of  the  ob- 
server this  diagnostic  peculiarity,  that  the  huge  brass 
plates  upon  the  small  and  highly  coloured  doors  bore 
only  the  first  names  of  ladies  —  Norah  or  Lily  or  Flor- 
ence; traversed  China  Town,  where  it  was  doubtless 
undermined  with  opium  cellars,  and  its  blocks  pierced, 
after  the  similitude  of  rabbit-warrens,  with  a  hundred 
doors  and  passages  and  galleries;  enjoyed  a  glimpse  of 
high  publicity  at  the  corner  of  Kearney ;  and  proceeded, 
among  dives  and  warehouses,  towards  the  City  Front 
and  the  region  of  the  water-rats.  In  this  last  stage  of 
its  career,  where  it  was  both  grimy  and  solitary,  and 
alternately  quiet  and  roaring  to  the  wheels  of  drays,  we 
found  a  certain  house  of  some  pretension  to  neatness, 
and  furnished  with  a  rustic  outside  stair.  On  the  pillar 
of  the  stair  a  black  plate  bore  in  gilded  lettering  this 

183 


THE   WRECKER 

device:  "Harry  D.  Bellairs,  Attorney-at-law.  Consul- 
tations, 9  to  6."  On  ascending  the  stairs,  a  door  was 
found  to  stand  open  on  the  balcony,  with  this  further 
inscription,  "Mr.  Bellairs  In." 

"  I  wonder  what  we  do  next,"  said  I. 

"Guess  we  sail  right  in,"  returned  Jim,  and  suited 
the  action  to  the  word. 

The  room  in  which  we  found  ourselves  was  clean,  but 
extremely  bare.  A  rather  old-fashioned  secretaire  stood 
by  the  wall,  with  a  chair  drawn  to  the  desk;  in  one 
corner  was  a  shelf  with  half-a-dozen  law  books;  and  I 
can  remember  literally  not  another  stick  of  furniture. 
One  inference  imposed  itself:  Mr.  Bellairs  was  in  the 
habit  of  sitting  down  himself  and  suffering  his  clients 
to  stand.  At  the  far  end,  and  veiled  by  a  curtain  of  red 
baize,  a  second  door  communicated  with  the  interior  of 
the  house.  Hence,  after  some  coughing  and  stamping, 
we  elicited  the  shyster,  who  came  timorously  forth,  for 
all  the  world  like  a  man  in  fear  of  bodily  assault,  and 
then,  recognising  his  guests,  suffered  from  what  I  can 
only  call  a  nervous  paroxysm  of  courtesy. 

"Mr.  Pinkerton  and  partner!"  said  he.  "I  will  go 
and  fetch  you  seats." 

"Not  the  least,"  said  Jim.  " No  time.  Much  rather 
stand.  This  is  business,  Mr.  Bellairs.  This  morning, 
as  you  know,  I  bought  the  wreck,  Flying  Scud." 

The  lawyer  nodded. 

"And  bought  her,"  pursued  my  friend,  "at  a  figure 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  cargo  and  the  circumstances* 
as  they  appeared  ?  " 

"And  now  you  think  better  of  it,  and  would  like  to 
be  off  with  your  bargain  ?    I  have  been  figuring  upon 

184 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

this,"  returned  the  lawyer.  "  My  client,  I  will  not  hide 
from  you,  was  displeased  with  me  for  putting  her  so 
high.  I  think  we  were  both  too  heated,  Mr.  Pinkerton : 
rivalry  —  the  spirit  of  competition.  But  I  will  be  quite 
frank  —  I  know  when  I  am  dealing  with  gentlemen  — 
and  I  am  almost  certain,  if  you  leave  the  matter  in  my 
hands,  my  client  would  relieve  you  of  the  bargain,  so  as 
you  would  lose" — he  consulted  our  faces  with  gimlet- 
eyed  calculation — "  nothing,"  he  added  shrilly. 

And  here  Pinkerton  amazed  me. 

''That's  a  little  too  thin,"  said  he.  "I  have  the 
wreck.  I  know  there's  boodle  in  her,  and  I  mean  to 
keep  her.  What  I  want  is  some  points  which  may  save 
me  needless  expense,  and  which  I  am  prepared  to  pay 
for,  money  down.  The  thing  for  you  to  consider  is  just 
this :  am  I  to  deal  with  you,  or  direct  with  your  prin- 
cipal ?  If  you  are  prepared  to  give  me  the  facts  right 
off,  why,  name  your  figure.  Only  one  thing!"  added 
Jim,  holding  a  finger  up,  "when  I  say  'money  down,' 
I  mean  bills  payable  when  the  ship  returns,  and  if  the 
information  proves  reliable.     I  don't  buy  pigs  in  pokes." 

I  had  seen  the  lawyer's  face  light  up  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  at  the  sound  of  Jim's  proviso,  miserably  fade. 
"I  guess  you  know  more  about  this  wreck  than  I  do, 
Mr.  Pinkerton,"  said  he.  "I  only  know  that  I  was  told 
to  buy  the  thing,  and  tried,  and  couldn't." 

"What  I  like  about  you,  Mr.  Bellairs,  is  that  you 
waste  no  time,"  said  Jim.  "Now  then;  your  client's 
name  and  address." 

"On  consideration,"  replied  the  lawyer,  with  inde- 
scribable furtivity,  "I  cannot  see  that  I  am  entitled  to 
communicate  my  client's  name.     I  will  sound  him  for 

.85 


THE  WRECKER 

you  with  pleasure,  if  you  care  to  instruct  me;  but  I 
cannot  see  that  I  can  give  you  his  address." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jim,  and  put  his  hat  on.  "  Rather 
a  strong  step,  isn't  it  ?  "  (Between  every  sentence  was 
a  clear  pause.)  "Not  think  better  of  it?  Well,  come 
—  call  it  a  dollar!" 

"Mr.  Pinkerton,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  offended  attor- 
ney; and  indeed,  I  myself  was  almost  afraid  that  Jim 
had  mistaken  his  man  and  gone  too  far. 

u  No  present  use  for  a  dollar?"  says  Jim.  "Well, 
look  here,  Mr.  Bellairs:  we're  both  busy  men,  and  I'll 
go  to  my  outside  figure  with  you  right  away " 

"Stop  this,  Pinkerton,"  I  broke  in.  "I  know  the  ad- 
dress: 924  Mission  Street." 

I  do  not  know  whether  Pinkerton  or  Bellairs  was  the 
more  taken  aback. 

"Why  in  snakes  didn't  you  say  so,  Loudon  ?"  cried 
my  friend. 

"  You  didn't  ask  for  it  before,"  said  I,  colouring  to  my 
temples  under  his  troubled  eyes. 

It  was  Bellairs  who  broke  silence,  kindly  supplying 
me  with  all  that  I  had  yet  to  learn.  "Since  you  know 
Mr.  Dickson's  address,"  said  he,  plainly  burning  to  be 
rid  of  us,  "  I  suppose  I  need  detain  you  no  longer." 

I  do  not  know  how  Pinkerton  felt,  but  I  had  death  in 
my  soul  as  we  came  down  the  outside  stair,  from  the 
den  of  this  blotched  spider.  My  whole  being  was  strung, 
waiting  for  Jim's  first  question,  and  prepared  to  blurt 
out,  I  believe,  almost  with  tears,  a  full  avowal.  But  my 
friend  asked  nothing. 

"We  must  hack  it,"  said  he,  tearing  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  nearest  stand.     "No  time  to  be  lost.     You 

186 


IN   WHICH   THE   CREW   VANISH 

saw  how  I  changed  ground.    No  use  in  paying  the  shy- 
ster's commission." 

Again  I  expected  a  reference  to  my  suppression ;  again 
I  was  disappointed.  It  was  plain  Jim  feared  the  sub- 
ject, and  I  felt  I  almost  hated  him  for  that  fear.  At 
last,  when  we  were  already  in  the  hack  and  driving 
towards  Mission  street,  I  could  bear  my  suspense  no 
longer." 

"  You  do  not  ask  me  about  that  address,"  said  I. 

"No,"  said  he,  quickly  and  timidly.  "What  was  it  ? 
I  would  like  to  know." 

The  note  of  timidity  offended  me  like  a  buffet;  my 
temper  rose  as  hot  as  mustard.  "I  must  request  you 
do  not  ask  me,"  said  I.  "It  is  a  matter  I  cannot  ex- 
plain." 

The  moment  the  foolish  words  were  said,  that  moment 
I  would  have  given  worlds  to  recall  them :  how  much 
more,  when  Pinkerton,  patting  my  hand,  replied:  "All 
right,  dear  boy;  not  another  word;  that's  all  done.  I'm 
convinced  it's  perfectly  right."  To  return  upon  the 
subject  was  beyond  my  courage ;  but  I  vowed  inwardly 
that  I  should  do  my  utmost  in  the  future  for  this  mad 
speculation,  and  that  I  would  cut  myself  in  pieces  before 
jim  should  lose  one  dollar. 

We  had  no  sooner  arrived  at  the  address  than  I  had 
other  things  to  think  of. 

"Mr.  Dickson  ?    He's  gone,"  said  the  landlady. 

Where  had  he  gone  ? 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  tell  you,"  she  answered.  "  He  was 
quite  a  stranger  to  me." 

"Did  he  express  his  baggage,  ma'am?"  asked  Pin- 
kerton. 

187 


THE  WRECKER 

"  Hadn't  any,"  was  the  reply.  "  He  came  last  night 
and  left  again  to-day  with  a  satchel." 

"When  did  he  leave?"  I  inquired. 

"It  was  about  noon,"  replied  the  landlady.  "  Some 
one  rang  up  the  telephone,  and  asked  for  him ;  and  I 
reckon  he  got  some  news,  for  he  left  right  away,  although 
his  rooms  were  taken  by  the  week.  He  seemed  consid- 
able  put  out:  1  reckon  it  was  a  death." 

My  heart  sank;  perhaps  my  idiotic  jest  had  indeed 
driven  him  away ;  and  again  I  asked  myself,  Why  ?  and 
whirled  for  a  moment  in  a  vortex  of  untenable  hy- 
potheses. 

"  What  was  he  like,  ma'am  ?"  Pinkerton  was  asking, 
when  I  returned  to  consciousness  of  my  surroundings. 

"A  clean  shaved  man,"  said  the  woman,  and  could 
be  led  or  driven  into  no  more  significant  description. 

"  Pull  up  at  the  nearest  drug-store,"  said  Pinkerton  to 
the  driver;  and  when  there,  the  telephone  was  put  in 
operation,  and  the  message  sped  to  the  Pacific  Mail 
Steamship  Company's  office  —  this  was  in  the  days  be- 
fore Spreckels  had  arisen  —  "  When  does  the  next  China 
steamer  touch  at  Honolulu  ?" 

"The  City  of  Pekin;  she  cast  off  the  dock  to-day,  at 
half-past  one,"  came  the  reply. 

"  It's  a  clear  case  of  bolt,"  said  Jim.  "  He's  skipped, 
or  my  name's  not  Pinkerton.  He's  gone  to  head  us  off 
at  Midway  Island." 

Somehow  I  was  not  so  sure;  there  were  elements  in 
the  case,  not  known  to  Pinkerton — the  fears  of  the  cap- 
tain, for  example  —  that  inclined  me  otherwise;  and  the 
idea  that  I  had  terrified  Mr.  Dickson  into  flight,  though 
resting  on  so  slender  a  foundation,  clung  obstinately  in 

188 


IN   WHICH   THE   CREW   VANISH 

my  mind.     "  Shouldn't  we  see  the  list  of  passengers  ?' 
I  asked. 

"Dickson  is  such  a  blamed  common  name,"  returned 
Jim;  "and  then,  as  like  as  not,  he  would  change  it." 

At  this  I  had  another  intuition.  A  negative  of  a  street 
scene,  taken  unconsciously  when  I  was  absorbed  in 
other  thoughts,  rose  in  my  memory  with  not  a  feature 
blurred :  a  view,  from  Bellairs's  door  as  we  were  com- 
ing down,  of  muddy  roadway,  passing  drays,  matted 
telegraph  wires,  a  Chinaboy  with  a  basket  on  his  head, 
and  (almost  opposite)  a  corner  grocery  with  the  name 
of  Dickson  in  great  gilt  letters. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "you  are  right;  he  would  change  it. 
And  anyway,  I  don't  believe  it  was  his  name  at  all;  I 
believe  he  took  it  from  a  corner  grocery  beside  Bel- 
lairs's." 

"  As  like  as  not,"  said  Jim,  still  standing  on  the  side- 
walk with  contracted  brows. 

"Well,  what  shall  we  do  next?"  I  asked. 

"The  natural  thing  would  be  to  rush  the  schooner," 
he  replied.  "  But  I  don't  know.  I  telephoned  the  cap- 
tain to  go  at  it  head  down  and  heels  in  air;  he  answered 
like  a  little  man ;  and  I  guess  he's  getting  around.  I  be- 
lieve, Loudon,  we'll  give  Trent  a  chance.  Trent  was  in 
it;  he  was  in  it  up  to  the  neck;  even  if  he  couldn't  buy, 
he  could  give  us  the  straight  tip." 

"I  think  so  too,"  said  I.     "Where  shall  we  find  him?" 

"British  consulate  of  course,"  said  Jim.  "  And  that's 
another  reason  for  taking  him  first.  We  can  hustle  that 
schooner  up  all  evening;  but  when  the  consulate's  shut, 
it's  shut." 

At  the  consulate,  we  learned  that  Captain  Trent  had 
189 


THE  WRECKER 

alighted  (such  is  I  believe  the  classic  phrase)  at  the  What 
Cheer  House.  To  that  large  and  unaristocratic  hostelry 
we  drove,  and  addressed  ourselves  to  a  large  clerk,  who 
was  chewing  a  toothpick  and  looking  straight  before 
him. 

"  Captain  Jacob  Trent  ?  " 

"Gone,"  said  the  clerk. 

"Where  has  he  gone?"  asked  Pinkerton. 

"Cain't  say,"  said  the  clerk. 

'*  When  did  he  go  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Don't  know,"  said  the  clerk,  and  with  the  simplicity 
of  a  monarch  offered  us  the  spectacle  of  his  broad  back. 

What  might  have  happened  next  I  dread  to  picture, 
for  Pinkerton's  excitement  had  been  growing  steadily, 
and  now  burned  dangerously  high ;  but  we  were  spared 
extremities  by  the  intervention  of  a  second  clerk. 

"Why!  Mr.  Dodd!"  he  exclaimed,  running  forward 
to  the  counter.  "  Glad  to  see  you,  sir!  Can  I  do  any- 
thing in  your  way  ?" 

How  virtuous  actions  blossom!  Here  was  a  young 
man  to  whose  pleased  ears  I  had  rehearsed  Just  before  the 
battle,  mother,  at  some  weekly  picnic ;  and  now,  in  that 
tense  moment  of  my  life,  he  came  (from  the  machine) 
to  be  my  helper. 

"  Captain  Trent  of  the  wreck  ?  O  yes,  Mr.  Dodd ;  he 
left  about  twelve;  he  and  another  of  the  men.  The 
Kanaka  went  earlier  by  the  City  of  Pekin;  I  know  that; 
I  remember  expressing  his  chest.  Captain  Trent's  ?  I'll 
inquire,  Mr.  Dodd.  Yes,  they  were  all  here.  Here  are 
the  names  on  the  register;  perhaps  you  would  care  to 
look  at  them  while  I  go  and  see  about  the  baggage  ?  " 

I  drew  the  book  toward  me,  and  stood  looking  at  the 
190 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

four  names  all  written  in  the  same  hand,  rather  a  big 
and  rather  a  bad  one :  Trent,  Brown,  Hardy,  and  (instead 
of  Ah  Sing)  Jos.  Amalu. 

"  Pinkerton,"  said  I,  suddenly,  "have  you  that  Occi- 
dental in  your  pocket  ?  " 

"  Never  left  me,"  said  Pinkerton,  producing  the  paper. 

I  turned  to  the  account  of  the  wreck.  "  Here,"  said 
I;  " here's  the  name.  *  Elias  Goddedaal,  mate.'  Why 
do  we  never  come  across  Elias  Goddedaal  ?  " 

"That's  so,"  said  Jim.  "Was  he  with  the  rest  in 
that  saloon  when  you  saw  them  ?  " 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  said  I.  "They  were  only  four, 
and  there  was  none  that  behaved  like  a  mate." 

At  this  moment  the  clerk  returned  with  his  report. 

"The  captain,"  it  appeared,  "came  with  some  kind 
of  an  express  waggon,  and  he  and  the  man  took  off  three 
chests  and  a  big  satchel.  Our  porter  helped  to  put  them 
on,  but  they  drove  the  cart  themselves.  The  porter 
thinks  they  went  down  town.     It  was  about  one." 

"Still  in  time  for  the  City  of  Pekin/'  observed  Jim. 

"How  many  of  them  were  here?"  I  inquired. 

"Three,  sir,  and  the  Kanaka,"  replied  the  clerk.  "I 
can't  somehow  find  out  about  the  third,  but  he's  gone 
too." 

"Mr.  Goddedaal,  the  mate,  was  n't  here  then?"  I 
asked. 

"No,  Mr.  Dodd,  none  but  what  you  see,"  says  the 
clerk. 

"Nor  you  never  heard  where  he  was  ?" 

"No.  Any  particular  reason  for  finding  these  men, 
Mr.  Dodd  ?  "  inquired  the  clerk. 

"This  gentleman  and  I  have  bought  the  wreck,"  I 

IQl 


THE   WRECKER 

explained;  "we  wished  to  get  some  information,  and 
it  is  very  annoying  to  find  the  men  all  gone." 

A  certain  group  had  gradually  formed  about  us,  for  the 
wreck  was  still  a  matter  of  interest;  and  at  this,  one  of 
the  bystanders,  a  rough  seafaring  man,  spoke  suddenly. 

"I  guess  the  mate  won't  be  gone,"  said  he.  '  He's 
main  sick;  never  left  the  sick-bay  aboard  the  Tempest ; 
so  they  tell  me. 

Jim  took  me  by  the  sleeve.  ' '  Back  to  the  consulate, " 
said  he. 

But  even  at  the  consulate  nothing  was  known  of  Mr. 
Goddedaal.  The  doctor  of  the  Tempest  had  certified 
him  very  sick;  he  had  sent  his  papers  in,  but  never  ap- 
peared in  person  before  the  authorities. 

"  Have  you  a  telephone  laid  on  to  the  Tempest? ' '  asked 
Pinkerton. 

"  Laid  on  yesterday,"  said  the  clerk. 

"Do  you  mind  asking,  or  letting  me  ask?  We  are 
very  anxious  to  get  hold  of  Mr.  Goddedaal." 

"All  right,"  said  the  clerk,  and  turned  to  the  tele- 
phone. "I'm  sorry,"  he  said  presently,  "Mr.  Godde- 
daal has  left  the  ship,  and  no  one  knows  where  he  is." 

"Do  you  pay  the  men's  passage  home?"  I  inquired, 
a  sudden  thought  striking  me. 

"If they  want  it,"  said  the  clerk;  "sometimes  they 
don't.  But  we  paid  the  Kanaka's  passage  to  Honolulu 
this  morning;  and  by  what  Captain  Trent  was  saying, 
I  understand  the  rest  are  going  home  together." 

"Then  you  haven't  paid  them  ?"  said  I. 

"Not  yet,"  said  the  clerk. 

"And  you  would  be  a  good  deal  surprised,  if  I  were 
to  tell  you  they  were  gone  already  ?  "  I  asked. 

?Q2 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

"O,  I  should  think  you  were  mistaken,"  said  he. 

"Such  is  the  fact,  however,"  said  I. 

"lam  sure  you  must  be  mistaken,"  he  repeated. 

"May  I  use  your  telephone  one  moment?"  asked 
Pinkerton ;  and  as  soon  as  permission  had  been  granted, 
I  heard  him  ring  up  the  printing-office  where  our  adver- 
tisements were  usually  handled.  More  I  did  not  hear; 
for  suddenly  recalling  the  big,  bad  hand  in  the  register 
of  the  What  Cheer  House,  I  asked  the  consulate  clerk  if 
he  had  a  specimen  of  Captain  Trent's  writing.  Where- 
upon I  learned  that  the  captain  could  not  write,  having 
cut  his  hand  open  a  little  before  the  loss  of  the  brig;  that 
the  latter  part  of  the  log  even  had  been  written  up  by 
Mr.  Goddedaal,  and  that  Trent  had  always  signed  with 
his  left  hand.  By  the  time  I  had  gleaned  this  informa- 
tion, Pinkerton  was  ready. 

"  That's  all  that  we  can  do.  Now  for  the  schooner," 
said  he;  "and  by  to-morow  evening  I  lay  hands  on 
Goddedaal,  or  my  name's  not  Pinkerton." 

"  How  have  you  managed  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"You'll  see  before  you  get  to  bed,"  said  Pinkerton. 
"And  now,  after  all  this  backwarding  and  forwarding, 
and  that  hotel  clerk,  and  that  bug  Bellairs,  it'll  be  a 
change  and  a  kind  of  consolation  to  see  the  schooner.  I 
guess  things  are  humming  there." 

But  on  the  wharf,  when  we  reached  it,  there  was  no 
sign  of  bustle,  and  but  for  the  galley  smoke,  no  mark 
of  life  on  the  Norah  Creina.  Pinkerton's  face  grew  pale, 
and  his  mouth  straightened,  as  he  leaped  on  board. 

"Where's  the  captain  of  this ?"  and  he  left  the 

phrase  unfinished,  finding  no  epithet  sufficiently  ener- 
getic for  his  thoughts. 

193 


THE  WRECKER 

It  did  not  appear  whom  or  what  he  was  addressing; 
but  a  head,  presumably  the  cook's,  appeared  in  answer 
at  the  galley  door. 

"In  the  cabin,  at  dinner,"  said  the  cook  deliberately, 
chewing  as  he  spoke. 

"Is  that  cargo  out?" 

"No,  sir." 

"None  of  it?" 

"  O,  there's  some  of  it  out.  We'll  get  at  the  rest  of 
it  livelier  to-morrow,  I  guess." 

"I  guess  there'll  be  something  broken  first,"  said 
Pinkerton,  and  strode  to  the  cabin. 

Here  we  found  a  man,  fat,  dark,  and  quiet,  seated 
gravely  at  what  seemed  a  liberal  meal.  He  looked 
up,  upon  our  entrance;  and  seeing  Pinkerton  continue 
to  stand  facing  him  in  silence,  hat  on  head,  arms 
folded,  and  lips  compressed,  an  expression  of  mingled 
wonder  and  annoyance  began  to  dawn  upon  his  placid 
face. 

"Well,"  said  Jim.  "And  so  this  is  what  you  call 
rushing  around  ?" 

"Who  are  you?"  cries  the  captain. 

"Me!  I'm  Pinkerton!"  retorted  Jim,  as  though  the 
name  had  been  a  talisman. 

"You're  not  very  civil,  whoever  you  are,"  was  the 
reply.  But  still  a  certain  effect  had  been  produced, 
for  he  scrambled  to  his  feet,  and  added  hastily,  "A 
man  must  have  a  bit  of  dinner,  you  know,  Mr.  Pin- 
kerton." 

"  Where's  your  mate  ?  "  snapped  Jim. 

"He's  up  town,"  returned  the  other. 

"Uptown!"  sneered  Pinkerton.  "  Now  I'll  tell  you 
194 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

what  you  are:  you're  a  Fraud;  and  if  I  wasn't  afraid 
of  dirtying  my  boot,  I  would  kick  you  and  your  dinner 
into  that  dock." 

"I'll  tell  you  something,  too,"  retorted  the  captain, 
duskily  flushing.  "I  wouldn't  sail  this  ship  for  the  man 
you  are,  if  you  went  upon  your  knees.  I've  dealt  with 
gentlemen  up  to  now." 

"  I  can  tell  you  the  names  of  a  number  of  gentlemen 
you'll  never  deal  with  any  more,  and  that's  the  whole 
of  Longhurst's  gang,"  said  Jim.  "I'll  put  your  pipe 
out  in  that  quarter,  my  friend.  Here,  rout  out  your 
traps  as  quick  as  look  at  it,  and  take  your  vermin  along 
with  you.  I'll  have  a  captain  in,  this  very  night,  that's 
a  sailor,  and  some  sailors  to  work  for  him." 

"I'll  go  when  I  please,  and  that's  to-morrow  morn- 
ing," cried  the  captain  after  us,  as  we  departed  for  the 
shore. 

"There's  something  gone  wrong  with  the  world  to- 
day; it  must  have  come  bottom  up!"  wailed  Pin- 
kerton.  "Bellairs,  and  then  the  hotel  clerk,  and  now 
This  Fraud!  And  what  am  I  to  do  for  a  captain,  Lou- 
don, with  Longhurst  gone  home  an  hour  ago,  and  the 
boys  all  scattered  ?  " 

"I  know,"  said  I.  "Jump  in!"  And  then  to  the 
driver:  "Do  you  know  Black  Tom's?" 

Thither  then  we  rattled ;  passed  through  the  bar,  and 
found  (as  I  had  hoped)  Johnson  in  the  enjoyment  of 
club  life.  The  table  had  been  thrust  upon  one  side ;  a 
South  Sea  merchant  was  discoursing  music  from  a 
mouth-organ  in  one  corner;  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  Johnson  and  a  fellow-seaman,  their  arms  clasped 
about  each  other's  bodies,  somewhat  heavily  danced. 

i95 


THE   WRECKER 

The  room  was  both  cold  and  close;  a  jet  of  gas,  which 
continually  menaced  the  heads  of  the  performers,  shed 
a  coarse  illumination;  the  mouth-organ  sounded  shrill 
and  dismal;  and  the  faces  of  all  concerned  were  church- 
like in  their  gravity.  It  were,  of  course,  indelicate  to 
interrupt  these  solemn  frolics;  so  we  edged  ourselves 
to  chairs,  for  all  the  world  like  belated  comers  in  a  con- 
cert-room, and  patiently  waited  for  the  end.  At  length 
the  organist,  having  exhausted  his  supply  of  breath, 
ceased  abruptly  in  the  middle  of  a  bar.  With  the  ces- 
sation of  a  strain,  the  dancers  likewise  came  to  a  full 
stop,  swayed  a  moment,  still  embracing,  and  then 
separated  and  looked  about  the  circle  for  applause. 

"Very  well  danced!"  said  one;  but  it  appears  the 
compliment  was  not  strong  enough  for  the  performers, 
who  (forgetful  of  the  proverb)  took  up  the  tale  in  per- 
son. 

"  Well!  "  said  Johnson.  "I  mayn't  be  no  sailor,  but 
I  can  dance! " 

And  his  late  partner,  with  an  almost  pathetic  convic- 
tion, added,  "  My  foot  is  as  light  as  a  feather." 

Seeing  how  the  wind  set,  you  may  be  sure  I  added  a 
few  words  of  praise  before  I  carried  Johnson  alone  into 
the  passage:  to  whom,  thus  mollified,  I  told  so  much 
as  I  judged  needful  of  our  situation,  and  begged  him,  i\ 
he  would  not  take  the  job  himself,  to  find  me  a  smart 
man. 

"Me!  "  he  cried.  "I  couldn't  no  more  do  it  than  I 
could  try  to  go  to  hell!  " 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  mate,"  said  I. 

"So  I  am  a  mate,"  giggled  Johnson,  "and  you  don't 
ca4ch  me  shipping  noways  else.     But  I'll  tell  you  what, 

196 


IN   WHICH   THE   CREW   VANISH 

I  believe  I  can  get  you  Arty  Nares :  you  seen  Arty :  first- 
rate  navigator  and  a  son  of  a  gun  for  style."  And 
he  proceeded  to  explain  to  me  that  Mr.  Nares,  who 
had  the  promise  of  a  fine  barque  in  six  months,  after 
things  had  quieted  down,  was  in  the  meantime  living 
very  private,  and  would  be  pleased  to  have  a  change 
of  air. 

I  called  out  Pinkerton  and  told  him.  " Nares!"  he 
cried,  as  soon  as  I  had  come  to  the  name.  "  I  would 
jump  at  the  chance  of  a  man  that  had  had  Nares 's 
trousers  on!  Why,  Loudon,  he's  the  smartest  deep- 
water  mate  out  of  San  Francisco,  and  draws  his  divi- 
dends regular  in  service  and  out."  This  hearty  in- 
dorsation clinched  the  proposal;  Johnson  agreed  to 
produce  Nares  before  six  the  following  morning;  and 
Black  Tom,  being  called  into  the  consultation,  prom- 
ised us  four  smart  hands  for  the  same  hour,  and  even 
(what  appeared  to  all  of  us  excessive)  promised  them 
sober. 

The  streets  were  fully  lighted  when  we  left  Black 
Tom's:  street  after  street  sparkling  with  gas  or  elec- 
tricity, line  after  line  of  distant  luminaries  climbing  the 
steep  sides  of  hills  towards  the  overvaulting  darkness; 
and  on  the  other  hand,  where  the  waters  of  the  bay  in- 
visibly trembled,  a  hundred  riding  lanterns  marked  the 
position  of  a  hundred  ships.  The  sea-fog  flew  high  in 
heaven;  and  at  the  level  of  man's  life  and  business  it 
was  clear  and  chill.  By  silent  consent,  we  paid  the 
hack  off,  and  proceeded  arm  in  arm  towards  the  Poodle 
Dog  for  dinner. 

At  one  of  the  first  hoardings,  I  was  aware  of  a  bill- 
sticker  at  work:  it  was  a  late  hour  for  this  employment, 


THE   WRECKER 

and  I  checked  Pinkerton  until  the  sheet  should  be  un- 
folded.    This  is  what  I  read : — 

TWO   HUNDRED   DOLLARS  REWARD. 

OFFICERS    AND    MEN    OF   THE 

WRECKED  BRIG   FLYING   SCUD 

APPLYING, 

PERSONALLY    OR    BY    LETTER, 

AT    THE    OFFICE    OF  JAMES    PINKERTON,    MONTANA   BLOCK, 

BEFORE  NOON   TO-MORROW,    TUESDAY,     I2TH, 

WILL    RECEIVE 

TWO   HUNDRED   DOLLARS   REWARD. 

"This  is  your  idea,  Pinkerton!  "  I  cried. 

"Yes.  They've  lost  no  time;  I'll  say  that  for  them 
—  not  like  the  Fraud,"  said  he.  "  But  mind  you,  Lou- 
don, that's  not  half  of  it.  The  cream  of  the  idea's  here : 
we  know  our  man's  sick ;  well,  a  copy  of  that  has  been 
mailed  to  every  hospital,  every  doctor,  and  every  drug- 
store in  San  Francisco." 

Of  course,  from  the  nature  of  our  business,  Pinkerton 
could  do  a  thing  of  the  kind  at  a  figure  extremely  re- 
duced ;  for  all  that,  I  was  appalled  at  the  extravagance, 
and  said  so. 

"  What  matter  a  few  dollars  now  ?  "  he  replied  sadly. 
"  It's  in  three  months  that  the  pull  comes,  Loudon." 

We  walked  on  again  in  silence,  not  without  a  shiver. 
Even  at  the  Poodle  Dog,  we  took  our  food  with  small 
appetite  and  less  speech ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  was 
warmed  with  a  third  glass  of  champagne  that  Pinkerton 
cleared  his  throat  and  looked  upon  me  with  a  depre- 
cating eye. 

198 


IN   WHICH   THE  CREW   VANISH 

"  Loudon,"  said  he,  "there  was  a  subject  you  didn't 
wish  to  be  referred  to.  I  only  want  to  do  so  indirectly. 
It  wasn't "  —  he  faltered  —  "it  wasn't  because  you  were 
dissatisfied  with  me?"  he  concluded,  with  a  quaver. 

"Pinkerton!"  cried  I. 

"No,  no,  not  a  word  just  now,"  he  hastened  to  pro- 
ceed. "  Let  me  speak  first.  I  appreciate,  though  I 
can't  imitate,  the  delicacy  of  your  nature;  and  I  can  well 
understand  you  would  rather  die  than  speak  of  it,  and 
yet  might  feel  disappointed.  I  did  think  I  could  have 
done  better  myself.  But  when  I  found  how  tight  money 
was  in  this  city,  and  a  man  like  Douglas  B.  Longhurst 
—  a  forty-niner,  the  man  that  stood  at  bay  in  a  corn 
patch  for  five  hours  against  the  San  Diablo  squatters  — 
weakening  on  the  operation,  I  tell  you,  Loudon,  I  began 
to  despair;  and  —  I  may  have  made  mistakes,  no  doubt 
there  are  thousands  who  could  have  done  better  —  but 
I  give  you  a  loyal  hand  on  it,  I  did  my  best." 

"  My  poor  Jim,"  said  I,  "as  if  I  ever  doubted  you!  as 
if  I  didn't  know  you  had  done  wonders!  All  day  I've 
been  admiring  your  energy  and  resource.  And  as  for 
that  affair " 

"No,  Loudon,  no  more,  not  a  word  more!  I  don't 
want  to  hear,"  cried  Jim. 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  don't  want  to  tell  you," 
said  I;  "for  it's  a  thing  I'm  ashamed  of." 

"Ashamed,  Loudon?  O,  don't  say  that;  don't  use 
such  an  expression  even  in  jest!  "  protested  Pinkerton. 

"  Do  you  never  do  anything  you're  ashamed  of?  "  I 
inquired. 

"  No,"  says  he,  rolling  his  eyes.  "  Why  ?  I'm  some- 
times sorry  afterwards,  when  it  pans  out  different  from 

199 


THE  WRECKER 

what  I  figured.     But  I  can't  see  what  I  would  want  to 
be  ashamed  for." 

I  sat  awhile  considering  with  admiration  the  sim- 
plicity of  my  friend's  character.  Then  I  sighed.  "  Do 
you  know,  Jim,  what  I'm  sorriest  for?"  said  I.  "  At 
this  rate,  I  can't  be  best  man  at  your  marriage." 

"  My  marriage!  "  he  repeated,  echoing  the  sigh.  "No 
marriage  for  me  now.  I'm  going  right  down  to-night 
to  break  it  to  her.  I  think  that's  what's  shaken  me  all 
da}',  I  feel  as  if  I  had  had  no  right  (after  I  was  engaged) 
to  operate  so  widely." 

"Well,  you  know,  Jim,  it  was  my  doing,  and  you 
must  lay  the  blame  on  me,"  said  I. 

"Not  a  cent  of  it!"  he  cried.  "I  was  as  eager  as 
yourself,  only  not  so  bright  at  the  beginning.  No ;  I've 
myself  to  thank  for  it;  but  it's  a  wrench." 

While  Jim  departed  on  his  dolorous  mission,  I  re- 
turned alone  to  the  office,  lit  the  gas,  and  sat  down  to 
reflect  on  the  events  of  that  momentous  day :  on  the 
strange  features  of  the  tale  that  had  been  so  far  unfolded, 
the  disappearances,  the  terrors,  the  great  sums  of  money ; 
and  on  the  dangerous  and  ungrateful  task  that  awaited 
me  in  the  immediate  future. 

It  is  difficult,  in  the  retrospect  of  such  affairs,  to  avoid 
attributing  to  ourselves  in  the  past  a  measure  of  the 
knowledge  we  possess  to-day.  But  I  may  say,  and  yet 
be  well  within  the  mark,  that  I  was  consumed  that  night 
with  a  fever  of  suspicion  and  curiosity ;  exhausted  my 
fancy  in  solutions,  which  I  still  dismissed  as  incommen- 
surable with  the  facts ;  and  in  the  mystery  by  which 
saw  myself  surrounded,  found  a  precious  stimulus  for 
my  courage  and  a  convenient  soothing  draught  for  con- 

200 


IN   WHICH   THE   CREW   VANISH 

science.  Even  had  all  been  plain  sailing,  I  do  not  hint 
that  I  should  have  drawn  back.  Smuggling  is  one  of 
the  meanest  of  crimes,  for  by  that  we  rob  a  whole  coun- 
try pro  rata,  and  are  therefore  certain  to  impoverish  the 
poor:  to  smuggle  opium  is  an  offence  particularly  dark, 
since  it  stands  related  not  so  much  to  murder,  as  to 
massacre.  Upon  all  these  points  I  was  quite  clear;  my 
sympathy  was  all  in  arms  against  my  interest;  and  had 
not  Jim  been  involved,  I  could  have  dwelt  almost  with 
satisfaction  on  the  idea  of  my  failure.  But  Jim,  his 
whole  fortune,  and  his  marriage,  depended  upon  my 
success;  and  I  preferred  the  interests  of  my  friend  be- 
fore those  of  all  the  islanders  in  the  South  Seas.  This 
is  a  poor,  private  morality,  if  you  like ;  but  it  is  mine, 
and  the  best  I  have ;  and  I  am  not  half  so  much  ashamed 
of  having  embarked  at  all  on  this  adventure,  as  I  am 
proud  that  (while  I  was  in  it,  and  for  the  sake  of  my 
friend)  I  was  up  early  and  down  late,  set  my  own  hand 
to  everything,  took  dangers  as  they  came,  and  for  once 
in  my  life  played  the  man  throughout.  At  the  same 
time,  I  could  have  desired  another  field  of  energy ;  and 
I  was  the  more  grateful  for  the  redeeming  element  of 
mystery.  Without  that,  though  I  might  have  gone 
ahead  and  done  as  well,  it  would  scarce  have  been  with 
ardour;  and  what  inspired  me  that  night  with  an  im- 
patient greed  of  the  sea,  the  island,  and  the  wreck,  was 
the  hope  that  I  might  stumble  there  upon  the  answer 
to  a  hundred  questions,  and  learn  why  Captain  Trent 
fanned  his  red  face  in  the  exchange,  and  why  Mr.  Dick- 
son fled  from  the  telephone  in  the  Mission  Street  lodg- 
ing-house. 


201 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I  TAKE   DIFFERENT  WAYS 

I  was  unhappy  when  I  closed  my  eyes;  and  it  was 
to  unhappiness  that  I  opened  them  again  next  morning, 
to  a  confused  sense  of  some  calamity  still  inarticulate, 
and  to  the  consciousness  of  jaded  limbs  and  of  a  swim- 
ming head.  I  must  have  lain  for  some  time  inert  and 
stupidly  miserable,  before  I  became  aware  of  a  reiterated 
knocking  at  the  door;  with  which  discovery  all  my 
wits  flowed  back  in  their  accustomed  channels,  and  I 
remembered  the  sale,  and  the  wreck,  and  Goddedaal, 
and  Nares,  and  Johnson,  and  Black  Tom,  and  the  trou- 
bles of  yesterday,  and  the  manifold  engagements  of  the 
day  that  was  to  come.  The  thought  thrilled  me  like  a 
trumpet  in  the  hour  of  battle.  In  a  moment,  I  had 
leaped  from  bed,  crossed  the  office  where  Pinkerton  lay 
in  a  deep  trance  of  sleep  on  the  convertible  sofa,  and 
stood  in  the  doorway,  in  my  night  gear,  to  receive  our 
visitors. 

Johnson  was  first,  by  way  of  usher,  smiling.  From 
a  little  behind,  with  his  Sunday  hat  tilted  forward  over 
his  brow,  and  a  cigar  glowing  between  his  lips,  Captain 
Nares  acknowledged  our  previous  acquaintance  with  a 
succinct  nod.  Behind  him  again,  in  the  top  of  the  stair- 
way, a  knot  of  sailors,  the  new  crew  of  the  Norah 


IN    WHICH     JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT  WAYS 

Creina,  stood  polishing  the  wall  with  back  and  elbow. 
These  I  left  without,  to  their  reflections.  But  our  two 
officers  I  carried  at  once  into  the  office,  where  (taking 
Jim  by  the  shoulder)  I  shook  him  slowly  into  conscious- 
ness. He  sat  up,  all  abroad  for  the  moment,  and  stared 
on  the  new  captain. 

"Jim,"  said  I,  "this  is  Captain  Nares.  Captain,  Mr. 
Pinkerton." 

Nares  repeated  his  curt  nod,  still  without  speech ;  and 
I  thought  he  held  us  both  under  a  watchful  scrutiny. 

"  O!"  says  Jim,  "  this  is  Captain  Nares,  is  it  ?  Good 
morning,  Captain  Nares.  Happy  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  your  acquaintance,  sir.  I  know  you  well  by  reputa- 
tion." 

Perhaps,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  moment,  this 
was  scarce  a  welcome  speech.  At  least,  Nares  received 
it  with  a  grunt. 

"Well,  Captain,"  Jim  continued,  "  you  know  about 
the  size  of  the  business  ?  You're  to  take  the  Nora 
Creina  to  Midway  Island,  break  up  a  wreck,  call  at 
Honolulu,  and  back  to  this  port?  I  suppose  that's 
understood  ?  " 

"Well,"  returned  Nares,  with  the  same  unamiable 
reserve,  "for  a  reason,  which  I  guess  you  know,  the 
cruise  may  suit  me;  but  there's  a  point  or  two  to  settle. 
We  shall  have  to  talk,  Mr.  Pinkerton.  But  whether  I 
go  or  not,  somebody  will;  there's  no  sense  in  losing 
time;  and  you  might  give  Mr.  Johnson  a  note,  let  him 
take  the  hands  right  down,  and  set  to  to  overhaul  the 
rigging.  The  beasts  look  sober,"  he  added,  with  an 
air  of  great  disgust,  "  and  need  putting  to  work  to  keep 
them  so." 

203 


THE  WRECKER 

This  being  agreed  upon,  Nares  watched  his  subordi- 
nate depart  and  drew  a  visible  breath. 

"And  now  we're  alone  and  can  talk,"  said  he. 
"What's  this  thing  about?  It's  been  advertised  like 
Barnum's  museum ;  that  poster  of  yours  has  set  the  Front 
talking;  that's  an  objection  in  itself,  for  I'm  laying  a 
little  dark  just  now ;  and  anyway,  before  I  take  the  ship, 
I  require  to  know  what  I'm  going  after." 

Thereupon  Pinkerton  gave  him  the  whole  tale,  be- 
ginning with  a  businesslike  precision,  and  working  him- 
self up,  as  he  went  on,  to  the  boiling-point  of  narrative 
enthusiasm.  Nares  sat  and  smoked,  hat  still  on  head, 
and  acknowledged  each  fresh  feature  of  the  story  with 
a  frowning  nod.  But  his  pale  blue  eyes  betrayed  him, 
and  lighted  visibly. 

"Now  you  see  for  yourself,"  Pinkerton  concluded: 
"there's  every  last  chance  that  Trent  has  skipped  to 
Honolulu,  and  it  won't  take  much  of  that  fifty  thousand 
dollars  to  charter  a  smart  schooner  down  to  Midway. 
Here's  where  I  want  a  man ! "  cried  Jim,  with  contagious 
energy.  "That  wreck's  mine;  I've  paid  for  it,  money 
down ;  and  if  it's  got  to  be  fought  for,  I  want  to  see  it 
fought  for  lively.  If  you're  not  back  in  ninety  days,  I 
tell  you  plainly,  I'll  make  one  of  the  biggest  busts  ever 
seen  upon  this  coast;  it's  life  or  death  for  Mr.  Dodd  and 
me.  As  like  as  not,  it'll  come  to  grapples  on  the  island ; 
and  when  I  heard  your  name  last  night  —  and  a  blame' 
sight  more  this  morning  when  I  saw  the  eye  you've  got 
in  your  head  —  I  said,  ■  Nares  is  good  enough  for  me!'" 

"I  guess,"  observed  Nares,  studying  the  ash  of  his 
cigar,  "  the  sooner  I  get  that  schooner  outside  the  Faral- 
lones,  the  better  you'll  be  pleased." 

204 


IN    WHICH  JIM  AND   I  TAKE   DIFFERENT   WAYS 

"  You're  the  man  I  dreamed  of ! "  cried  Jim,  bouncing 
on  the  bed.  "There's  not  five  per  cent  of  fraud  in  all 
your  carcase." 

"Just  hold  on,"  said  Nares.  "  There's  another  point. 
I  heard  some  talk  about  a  supercargo." 

"That's  Mr.  Dodd,  here,  my  partner,"  replied  Jim. 

"I  don't  see  it,"  returned  the  captain,  dryly.  "One 
captain's  enough  for  any  ship  that  ever  I  was  aboard." 

"Now,  don't  you  start  disappointing  me,"  said  Pin- 
kerton;  "for  you're  talking  without  thought.  I'm  not 
going  to  give  you  the  run  of  the  books  of  this  firm,  am 
I?  I  guess  not.  Well,  this  is  not  only  a  cruise;  it's 
a  business  operation;  and  that's  in  the  hands  of  my 
partner.  You  sail  that  ship,  you  see  to  breaking  up 
that  wreck  and  keeping  the  men  upon  the  jump,  and 
you'll  find  your  hands  about  full.  Only,  no  mistake 
about  one  thing:  it  has  to  be  done  to  Mr.  Dodd's  satis- 
faction; for  it's  Mr.  Dodd  that's  paying." 

"I'm  accustomed  to  give  satisfaction,"  said  Mr.  Nares, 
with  a  dark  flush. 

"  And  so  you  will  here! "  cried  Pinkerton.  "  I  under- 
stand you.  You're  prickly  to  handle,  but  you're  straight 
all  through." 

"The  position's  got  to  be  understood,  though,"  re- 
turned Nares,  perhaps  a  trifle  mollified.  "  My  position, 
I  mean.  I'm  not  going  to  ship  sailing-master;  it's 
enough  out  of  my  way  already,  to  set  a  foot  on  this 
mosquito  schooner." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  retorted  Jim,  with  an  indescriba- 
ble twinkle:  "you  just  meet  me  on  the  ballast,  and 
we'll  make  it  a  barquentine." 

Nares  laughed  a  little;  tactless  Pinkerton  had  once 
205 


THE  WRECKER 

more  gained  a  victory  in  tact.  "Then  there's  another 
point,"  resumed  the  captain,  tacitly  relinquishing  the 
last.     "  How  about  the  owners  ?  " 

"O,  you  leave  that  to  me;  I'm  one  of  Longhurst's 
crowd,  you  know,"  said  Jim,  with  sudden  bristling 
vanity.  "  Any  man  that's  good  enough  for  me,  is  good 
enough  for  them." 

"Who  are  they  ?"  asked  Nares. 

"  M'Intyre  and  Spittal,"  said  Jim. 

"O,  well,  give  me  a  card  of  yours,"  said  the  captain: 
"you  needn't  bother  to  write;  I  keep  M'Intyre  and 
Spittal  in  my  vest-pocket." 

Boast  for  boast;  it  was  always  thus  with  Nares  and 
Pinkerton  —  the  two  vainest  men  of  my  acquaintance. 
And  having  thus  reinstated  himself  in  his  own  opinion, 
the  captain  rose,  and,  with  a  couple  of  his  stiff  nods, 
departed. 

"Jim,"  I  cried,  as  the  door  closed  behind  him,  "I 
don't  like  that  man." 

"  You've  just  got  to,  Loudon,"  returned  Jim.  "He's 
a  typical  American  seaman  —  brave  as  a  lion,  full  of  re- 
source, and  stands  high  with  his  owners.  He's  a  man 
with  a  record." 

"  For  brutality  at  sea,"  said  I. 

"Say  what  you  like,"  exclaimed  Pinkerton,  "it  was 
a  good  hour  we  got  him  in:  I'd  trust  Mamie's  life  to 
him  to-morrow." 

"Well,  and  talking  of  Mamie?"  says  I. 

Jim  paused  with  his  trousers  half  on.  "She's  the 
gallantest  little  soul  God  ever  made !  "  he  cried.  "Lou- 
don, I  meant  to  knock  you  up  last  night,  and  I  hope 
you  won't  take  it  unfriendly  that  I  didn't.     I  went  in 

206 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT    WAYS 

and  looked  at  you  asleep;  and  I  saw  you  were  all 
broken  up,  and  let  you  be.  The  news  would  keep,  any 
way;  and  even  you,  Loudon,  couldn't  feel  it  the  same 
way  as  I  did." 

"  What  news  ?  "  I  asked. 

' '  It's  this  way, "  says  Jim.  ' '  I  told  her  how  we  stood, 
and  that  I  backed  down  from  marrying.  'Are  you  tired 
of  me?'  says  she:  God  bless  her!  Well,  I  explained 
the  whole  thing  over  again,  the  chance  of  smash,  your 
absence  unavoidable,  the  point  I  made  of  having  you 
for  the  best  man,  and  that.  '  If  you're  not  tired  of  me, 
I  think  I  see  oneway  to  manage,'  says  she.  '  Let's  get 
married  to-morrow,  and  Mr.  Loudon  can  be  best  man 
before  he  goes  to  sea.'  That's  how  she  said  it,  crisp 
and  bright,  like  one  of  Dickens's  characters.  It  was  no 
good  for  me  to  talk  about  the  smash.  'You'll  want 
me  all  the  more,'  she  said.  Loudon,  I  only  pray  I  can 
make  it  up  to  her;  I  prayed  for  it  last  night  beside  your 
bed,  while  you  lay  sleeping  —  for  you,  and  Mamie  and 
myself;  and  —  I  don't  know  if  you  quite  believe  in 
prayer,  I'm  a  bit  Ingersollian  myself — -but  a  kind  of 
sweetness  came  over  me,  and  I  couldn't  help  but  think 
it  was  an  answer.  Never  was  a  man  so  lucky!  You 
and  me  and  Mamie;  it's  a  triple  cord,  Loudon.  If 
either  of  you  were  to  die!  And  she  likes  you  so  much, 
and  thinks  you  so  accomplished  and  distingue-looking, 
and  v/as  just  as  set  as  I  was  to  have  you  for  best  man. 
'Mr.  Loudon,'  she  calls  you;  seems  to  me  so  friendly! 
And  she  sat  up  till  three  in  the  morning  fixing  up  a 
costume  for  the  marriage ;  it  did  me  good  to  see  her, 
Loudon,  and  to  see  that  needle  going,  going,  and  to 
say  'All  this  hurry,  Jim,  is  just  to  marry  you!'     I 

207 


THE  WRECKER 

couldn't  believe  it;  it  was  so  like  some  blame'  fairy 
story.  To  think  of  those  old  tin-type  times  about 
turned  my  head;  I  was  so  unrefined  then,  and  so  illit- 
erate, and  so  lonesome;  and  here  I  am  in  clover,  and 
I'm  blamed  if  I  can  see  what  I've  done  to  deserve  it." 

So  he  poured  forth  with  innocent  volubility  the  ful- 
ness of  his  heart;  and  I,  from  these  irregular  communi- 
cations, must  pick  out,  here  a  little  and  there  a  little, 
the  particulars  of  his  new  plan.  They  were  to  be  mar- 
ried, lure  enough,  that  day;  the  wedding  breakfast  was 
to  be  at  Frank's;  the  evening  to  be  passed  in  a  visit  of 
God-speed  aboard  the  Nor  ah  Creina;  and  then  we  were 
to  part,  Jim  and  I,  he  to  his  married  life,  I  on  my  sea- 
enterprise.  If  ever  I  cherished  an  ill-feeling  for  Miss 
Mamie,  I  forgave  her  now;  so  brave  and  kind,  so  pret- 
ty and  venturesome,  was  her  decision.  The  weather 
frowned  overhead  with  a  leaden  sky,  and  San  Francisco 
had  never  (in  all  my  experience)  looked  so  bleak,  and 
gaunt,  and  shoddy,  and  crazy,  like  a  city  prematurely 
old;  but  through  all  my  wanderings  and  errands  to  and 
fro,  by  the  dock  side  or  in  the  jostling  street,  among 
rude  sounds  and  ugly  sights,  there  ran  in  my  mind, 
like  a  tiny  strain  of  music,  the  thought  of  my  friend's 
happiness. 

For  that  was  indeed  a  day  of  many  and  incongruous 
occupations.  Breakfast  was  scarce  swallowed,  before 
Jim  must  run  to  the  City  Hall  and  Frank's  about  the 
cares  of  marriage,  and  I  hurry  to  John  Smith's  upon  the 
account  of  stores,  and  thence,  on  a  visit  of  certification, 
to  the  Norah  Creina.  Methought  she  looked  smaller 
than  ever,  sundry  great  ships  overspiring  her  from  close 
without.    She  was  already  a  nightmare  of  disorder;  and 

208 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT  WAYS 

the  wharf  alongside  was  piled  with  a  world  of  casks,  and 
cases,  and  tins,  and  tools,  and  coils  of  rope,  and  min- 
iature barrels  of  giant  powder,  such  as  it  seemed  no 
human  ingenuity  could  stuff  on  board  of  her.  Johnson 
was  in  the  waist,  in  a  red  shirt  and  dungaree  trousers, 
his  eye  kindled  with  activity.  With  him  I  exchanged 
a  word  or  two;  thence  stepped  aft  along  the  narrow 
alleyway  between  the  house  and  the  rail,  and  down  the 
companion  to  the  main  cabin,  where  the  captain  sat 
with  the  commissioner  at  wine. 

I  gazed  with  disaffection  at  the  little  box  which  for 
many  a  day  I  was  to  call  home.  On  the  starboard  was  a 
stateroom  for  the  captain ;  on  the  port,  a  pair  of  frowsy 
berths,  one  over  the  other,  and  abutting  astern  upon  the 
side  of  an  unsavoury  cupboard.  The  walls  were  yellow 
and  damp,  the  floor  black  and  greasy ;  there  was  a  pro- 
digious litter  of  straw,  old  newspapers,  and  broken  pack- 
ing-cases ;  and  by  way  of  ornament,  only  a  glass-rack, 
a  thermometer  presented  "  with  compliments  "  of  some 
advertising  whisky-dealer,  and  a  swinging  lamp.  It 
was  hard  to  foresee  that,  before  a  week  was  up,  I  should 
regard  that  cabin  as  cheerful,  lightsome,  airy,  and  even 
spacious. 

I  was  presented  to  the  commissioner,  and  to  a  young 
friend  of  his  whom  he  had  brought  with  him  for  the 
purpose  (apparently)  of  smoking  cigars ;  and  after  we 
had  pledged  one  another  in  a  glass  of  California  port,  a 
trifle  sweet  and  sticky  for  a  morning  beverage,  the  func- 
tionary spread  his  papers  on  the  table,  and  the  hands 
were  summoned.  Down  they  trooped,  accordingly, 
into  the  cabin ;  and  stood  eying  the  ceiling  or  the  floor, 
the  picture  of  sheepish  embarrassment,  and  with  a  com- 

209 


THE  WRECKER 

mon  air  of  wanting  to  expectorate  and  not  quite  daring. 
In  admirable  contrast,  stood  the  Chinese  cook,  easy, 
dignified,  set  apart  by  spotless  raiment,  the  hidalgo  of 
the  seas. 

I  daresay  you  never  had  occasion  to  assist  at  the  farce 
which  followed.  Our  shipping  laws  in  the  United 
States  (thanks  to  the  inimitable  Dana)  are  conceived  in 
a  spirit  of  paternal  stringency,  and  proceed  throughout 
on  the  hypothesis  that  poor  Jack  is  an  imbecile,  and 
the  other  parties  to  the  contract,  rogues  and  ruffians.  A 
long  and  wordy  paper  of  precautions,  a  fo'c's'le  bill  of 
rights,  must  be  read  separately  to  each  man.  I  had 
now  the  benefit  of  hearing  it  five  times  in  brisk  suc- 
cession ;  and  you  would  suppose  I  was  acquainted  with 
its  contents.  But  the  commissioner  (worthy  man) 
spends  his  days  in  doing  little  else;  and  when  we  bear 
in  mind  the  parallel  case  of  the  irreverent  curate,  we 
need  not  be  surprised  that  he  took  the  passage  tempo 
prestissimo,  in  one  roulade  of  gabble  —  that  I,  with  the 
trained  attention  of  an  educated  man,  could  gather  but  a 
fraction  of  its  import  —  and  the  sailors  nothing.  No 
profanity  in  giving  orders,  no  sheath-knives,  Midway 
Island  and  any  other  port  the  master  may  direct,  not  to 
exceed  six  calendar  months,  and  to  this  port  to  be  paid 
off:  so  it  seemed  to  run,  with  surprising  verbiage;  so 
ended.  And  with  the  end,  the  commissioner,  in  each 
case,  fetched  a  deep  breath,  resumed  his  natural  voice, 
and  proceeded  to  business.  ' '  Now,  my  man, "  he  would 
say,  "you  ship  A.  B.  at  so  many  dollars,  American  gold 
coin.  Sign  your  name  here,  if  you  have  one,  and  can 
write."  Whereupon,  and  the  name  (with  infinite  hard 
breathing)  being  signed,  the  commissioner  would  pro- 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT   WAYS 

ceed  to  fill  in  the  man's  appearance,  height,  etc.,  on  the 
official  form.  In  this  task  of  literary  portraiture  he 
seemed  to  rely  wholly  upon  temperament;  for  I  could 
not  perceive  him  to  cast  one  glance  on  any  of  his  models. 
He  was  assisted,  however,  by  a  running  commentary 
from  the  captain:  "Hair  blue  and  eyes  red,  nose  five 
foot  seven,  and  stature  broken  " — jests  as  old,  presum- 
ably, as  the  American  marine;  and,  like  the  similar 
pleasantries  of  the  billiard  board,  perennially  relished. 
The  highest  note  of  humour  was  reached  in  the  case  of 
the  Chinese  cook,  who  was  shipped  under  the  name  of 
"  One  Lung,"  to  the  sound  of  his  own  protests  and  the 
self-approving  chuckles  of  the  functionary. 

"Now,  Captain,"  said  the  latter,  when  the  men  were 
gone,  and  he  had  bundled  up  his  papers,  "the  law  re- 
quires you  to  carry  a  slop-chest  and  a  chest  of  medi- 
cines." 

"I  guess  I  know  that,"  said  Nares. 

"I  guess  you  do,"  returned  the  commissioner,  and 
helped  himself  to  port. 

But  when  he  was  gone,  I  appealed  to  Nares  on  the 
same  subject,  for  I  was  well  aware  we  carried  none  of 
these  provisions. 

1 '  Well, "  drawled  Nares,  ' '  there's  sixty  pounds  of  nig- 
gerhead  on  the  quay,  isn't  there  ?  and  twenty  pounds  of 
salts;  and  I  never  travel  without  some  painkiller  in  my 
gripsack." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  were  richer.  The  captain  had 
the  usual  sailor's  provision  of  quack  medicines,  with 
which,  in  the  usual  sailor  fashion,  he  would  daily  drug 
himself,  displaying  an  extreme  inconstancy,  and  flitting 
from  Kennedy's  Red  Discovery  to  Kennedy's  White, 

211 


THE  WRECKER 

and  from  Hood's  Sarsaparilla  to  Mother  Seigel's  Syrup. 
And  there  were,  besides,  some  mildewed  and  half- 
empty  bottles,  the  labels  obliterated,  over  which  Nares 
would  sometimes  sniff  and  speculate.  * '  Seems  to  smell 
like  diarrhoea  stuff, "  he  would  remark.  "I  wish't  I 
knew,  and  I  would  try  it."  But  the  slop-chest  was 
indeed  represented  by  the  plugs  of  niggerhead,  and 
nothing  else.  Thus  paternal  laws  are  made,  thus 
they  are  evaded;  and  the  schooner  put  to  sea,  like 
plenty  of  her  neighbours,  liable  to  a  fine  of  six  hundred 
dollars. 

This  characteristic  scene,  which  has  delayed  me  over- 
long,  was  but  a  moment  in  that  day  of  exercise  and  agi- 
tation. To  fit  out  a  schooner  for  sea,  and  improvise  a 
marriage  between  dawn  and  dusk,  involves  heroic  effort. 
All  day  Jim  and  I  ran,  and  tramped,  and  laughed,  and 
came  near  crying,  and  fell  in  sudden  anxious  consulta- 
tions, and  were  sped  (with  a  prepared  sarcasm  on  our 
lips)  to  some  fallacious  milliner,  and  made  dashes  to  the 
schooner  and  John  Smith's,  and  at  every  second  corner 
were  reminded  (by  our  own  huge  posters)  of  our  des- 
perate estate.  Between  whiles,  I  had  found  the  time  to 
hover  at  some  half-a-dozen  jewellers'  windows ;  and  my 
present,  thus  intemperately  chosen,  was  graciously  ac- 
cepted. I  believe,  indeed,  that  was  the  last  (though  not 
the  least)  of  my  concerns,  before  the  old  minister,  shabby 
and  benign,  was  routed  from  his  house  and  led  to  the 
office  like  a  performing  poodle ;  and  there,  in  the  grow- 
ing dusk,  under  the  cold  glitter  of  Thirteen  Star,  two 
hundred  strong,  and  beside  the  garish  glories  of  the 
agricultural  engine,  Mamie  and  Jim  were  made  one. 
The  scene  was  incongruous,  but  the  business  pretty, 

212 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT    WAYS 

whimsical,  and  affecting:  the  typewriters  with  such 
kindly  faces  and  fine  posies,  Mamie  so  demure,  and  Jim 
—  how  shall  I  describe  that  poor,  transfigured  Jim  ?  He 
began  by  taking  the  minister  aside  to  the  far  end  of  the 
office.  I  knew  not  what  he  said,  but  I  have  reason  to 
believe  he  was  protesting  his  unfitness ;  for  he  wept  as 
he  said  it :  and  the  old  minister,  himself  genuinely  moved, 
was  heard  to  console  and  encourage  him,  and  at  one 
time  to  use  this  expression:  "I  assure  you,  Mr.  Pinker- 
ton,  there  are  not  many  who  can  say  so  much  "  —  from 
which  I  gathered  that  my  friend  had  tempered  his  self- 
accusations  with  at  least  one  legitimate  boast.  From 
this  ghostly  counselling,  Jim  turned  to  me;  and  though 
he  never  got  beyond  the  explosive  utterance  of  my 
name  and  one  fierce  handgrip,  communicated  some  of 
his  own  emotion,  like  a  charge  of  electricity,  to  his  best 
man.  We  stood  up  to  the  ceremony  at  last,  in  a  gen- 
eral and  kindly  discomposure.  Jim  was  all  abroad;  and 
the  divine  himself  betrayed  his  sympathy  in  voice  and 
demeanour,  and  concluded  with  a  fatherly  allocution, 
in  which  he  congratulated  Mamie  (calling  her  "my 
dear  ")  upon  the  fortune  of  an  excellent  husband,  and 
protested  he  had  rarely  married  a  more  interesting 
couple.  At  this  stage,  like  a  glory  descending,  there 
was  handed  in,  ex  machina,  the  card  of  Douglas  B.  Long- 
hurst,  with  congratulations  and  four  dozen  Perrier-Jouet. 
A  bottle  was  opened;  and  the  minister  pledged  the 
bride,  and  the  bridesmaids  simpered  and  tasted,  and  I 
made  a  speech  with  airy  bacchanalianism,  glass  in  hand. 
But  poor  Jim  must  leave  the  wine  untasted.  "Don't 
touch  it,"  I  had  found  the  opportunity  to  whisper;  "in 
your  state,  it  will  make  you  as  drunk  as  a  fiddler." 

213 


THE  WRECKER 

And  Jim  had  wrung  my  hand,  with  a  "  God  bless  you, 
Loudon! — saved  me  again!" 

Hard  following  upon  this,  the  supper  passed  off  at 
Frank's  with  somewhat  tremulous  gaiety.  And  thence, 
with  one  half  of  the  Perrier-Jouet  —  I  would  accept  no 
more  —  we  voyaged  in  a  hack  to  the  Nor  ah  Creina. 

"  What  a  dear  little  ship! "  cried  Mamie,  as  our  minia- 
ture craft  was  pointed  out  to  her.  And  then,  on  second 
thought,  she  turned  to  the  best  man.  "And  how  brave 
you  must  be,  Mr.  Dodd,"she  cried,  "to  go  in  that  tiny 
thing  so  far  upon  the  ocean !"  And  I  perceived  I  had 
risen  in  the  lady's  estimation. 

The  dear  little  ship  presented  a  horrid  picture  of  con- 
fusion, and  its  occupants  of  weariness  and  ill-humour. 
From  the  cabin  the  cook  was  storing  tins  into  the  laza- 
rette,  and  the  four  hands,  sweaty  and  sullen,  were  pass- 
ing them  from  one  to  another  from  the  waist.  Johnson 
was  three  parts  asleep  over  the  table ;  and  in  his  bunk, 
in  his  own  cabin,  the  captain  sourly  chewed  and  puffed 
at  a  cigar. 

"See  here,"  he  said,  rising;  "you'll  be  sorry  you 
came.  We  can't  stop  work  if  we're  to  get  away 
to-morrow.  A  ship  getting  ready  for  sea  is  no 
place  for  people,  anyway.  You'll  only  interrupt  my 
men." 

I  was  on  the  point  of  answering  something  tart;  but 
Jim,  who  was  acquainted  with  the  breed,  as  he  was 
with  most  things  that  had  a  bearing  on  affairs,  made 
haste  to  pour  in  oil. 

"Captain,"  he  said,  "I  know  we're  a  nuisance  here, 
and  that  you've  had  a  rough  time.  But  all  we  want  is 
that  you  should  drink  one  glass  of  wine  with  us,  Perrier- 

214 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE    DIFFERENT   WAYS 

Jouet,  from  Longhurst,  on  the  occasion  of  my  marriage, 
and  Loudon's  —  Mr.  Dodd's  —  departure." 

"Well,  it's  your  lookout,"  said  Nares.  "I  don't  mind 
half  an  hour.  Spell,  O!"  he  added  to  the  men;  "go 
and  kick  your  heels  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  you  can 
turn  to  again  a  trifle  livelier.  Johnson,  see  if  you  can't 
wipe  off  a  chair  for  the  lady." 

His  tone  was  no  more  gracious  than  his  language; 
but  when  Mamie  had  turned  upon  him  the  soft  fire  of 
her  eyes,  and  informed  him  that  he  was  the  first  sea- 
captain  she  had  ever  met,  "  except  captains  of  steamers, 
of  course"  —  she  so  qualified  the  statement  —  and  had 
expressed  a  lively  sense  of  his  courage,  and  perhaps  im- 
plied (for  I  suppose  the  arts  of  ladies  are  the  same  as  those 
of  men)  a  modest  consciousness  of  his  good  looks,  our 
bear  began  insensibly  to  soften ;  and  it  was  already  part 
as  an  apology,  though  still  with  unaffected  heat  of  tem- 
per, that  he  volunteered  some  sketch  of  his  annoyances. 

"A  pretty  mess  we've  had,"  said  he.  "  Half  the 
stores  were  wrong;  I'll  wring  John  Smith's  neck  for 
him  some  of  these  days.  Then  two  newspaper  beasts 
came  down,  and  tried  to  raise  copy  out  of  me,  till  1 
threatened  them  with  the  first  thing  handy;  and  then 
some  kind  of  missionary  bug,  wanting  to  work  his  pas- 
sage to  Raiatea  or  somewhere.  I  told  him  I  would  take 
him  off  the  wharf  with  the  butt  end  of  my  boot,  and  he 
went  away  cursing.  This  vessel's  been  depreciated  by 
the  look  of  him." 

While  the  captain  spoke,  with  his  strange,  humorous, 
arrogant  abruptness,  I  observed  Jim  to  be  sizing  him 
up,  like  a  thing  at  once  quaint  and  familiar,  and  with  a 
scrutiny  that  was  both  curious  and  knowing. 

215 


THE  WRECKER 

"One  word,  dear  boy,"  he  said,  turning  suddenly  to 
me.  And  when  he  had  drawn  me  on  deck,  "That 
man,"  says  he,  "will  carry  sail  till  your  hair  grows 
white;  but  never  you  let  on,  never  breathe  a  word.  I 
know  his  line:  he'll  die  before  he'll  take  advice;  and  if 
you  get  his  back  up,  he'll  run  you  right  under.  I  don't 
often  jam  in  my  advice,  Loudon;  and  when  I  do,  it 
means  I'm  thoroughly  posted." 

The  little  party  in  the  cabin,  so  disastrously  begun, 
finished,  under  the  mellowing  influence  of  wine  and 
woman,  in  excellent  feeling  and  with  some  hilarity. 
Mamie,  in  a  plush  Gainsborough  hat  and  a  gown  of 
wine-coloured  silk,  sat,  an  apparent  queen,  among 
her  rude  surroundings  and  companions.  The  dusky 
litter  of  the  cabin  set  off  her  radiant  trimness :  tarry 
Johnson  was  a  foil  to  her  fair  beauty;  she  glowed 
in  that  poor  place,  fair  as  a  star;  until  even  I,  who 
was  not  usually  of  her  admirers,  caught  a  spark  of 
admiration;  and  even  the  captain,  who  was  in  no 
courtly  humour,  proposed  that  the  scene  should  be 
commemorated  by  my  pencil.  It  was  the  last  act 
of  the  evening.  Hurriedly  as  I  went  about  my  task, 
the  half-hour  had  lengthened  out  to  more  than  three 
before  it  was  completed:  Mamie  in  full  value,  the  rest 
of  the  party  figuring  in  outline  only,  and  the  artist  him- 
self introduced  in  a  back  view,  which  was  pronounced 
a  likeness.  But  it  was  to  Mamie  that  I  devoted  the 
best  of  my  attention ;  and  it  was  with  her  I  made  my 
chief  success. 

"O!"  she  cried,  "am  I  really  like  that?  No  wonder 
Jim  ..."  She  paused.  "Why  it's  just  as  lovely  as 
he's  good!  "  she  cried:  an  epigram  which  was  appreci- 

216 


IN    WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT   WAYS 

ated,  and  repeated  as  we  made  our  salutations,  and  called 
out  after  the  retreating  couple  as  they  passed  away  un- 
der the  lamplight  on  the  wharf. 

Thus  it  was  that  our  farewells  were  smuggled  through 
under  an  ambuscade  of  laughter,  and  the  parting  over 
ere  I  knew  it  was  begun.  The  figures  vanished,  the 
steps  died  away  along  the  silent  city  front;  on  board, 
the  men  had  returned  to  their  labours,  the  captain  to  his 
solitary  cigar;  and  after  that  long  and  complex  day  of 
business  and  emotion,  I  was  at  last  alone  and  free.  It 
was,  perhaps,  chiefly  fatigue  that  made  my  heart  so 
heavy.  I  leaned  at  least  upon  the  house,  and  stared  at 
the  foggy  heaven,  or  over  the  rail  at  the  wavering  re- 
flection of  the  lamps,  like  a  man  that  was  quite  done 
with  hope  and  would  have  welcomed  the  asylum  of 
the  grave.  And  all  at  once,  as  I  thus  stood,  the  City 
of  Pekin  flashed  into  my  mind,  racing  her  thirteen 
knots  for  Honolulu,  with  the  hated  Trent — perhaps  with 
the  mysterious  Goddedaal  —  on  board;  and  with  the 
thought,  the  blood  leaped  and  careered  through  all  my 
body.  It  seemed  no  chase  at  all;  it  seemed  we  had  no 
chance,  as  we  lay  there  bound  to  iron  pillars,  and  fool- 
ing away  the  precious  moments  over  tins  of  beans. 
"Let  them  get  there  first!"  I  thought.  "Let  them  I 
We  can't  be  long  behind."  And  from  that  moment,  I 
date  myself  a  man  of  a  rounded  experience:  nothing 
had  lacked  but  this,  that  I  should  entertain  and  welcome 
the  grim  thought  of  bloodshed. 

It  was  long  before  the  toil  remitted  in  the  cabin, 
and  it  was  worth  my  while  to  get  to  bed ;  long  after 
that,  before  sleep  favoured  me;  and  scarce  a  moment 
later  (or  so  it  seemed)  when  I  was  recalled  to  con- 

217 


THE  WRECKER 

sciousness  by  bawling  men  and  the  jar  of  straining 
hawsers. 

The  schooner  was  cast  off  before  I  got  on  deck.  In 
the  misty  obscurity  of  the  first  dawn,  I  saw  the  tug 
heading  us  with  glowing  fires  and  blowing  smoke,  and 
heard  her  beat  the  roughened  waters  of  the  bay.  Beside 
us,  on  her  flock  of  hills,  the  lighted  city  towered  up  and 
stood  swollen  in  the  raw  fog.  It  was  strange  to  see  her 
burn  on  thus  wastefully,  with  half-quenched  luminaries, 
when  the  dawn  was  already  grown  strong  enough  to 
show  me,  and  to  suffer  me  to  recognise,  a  solitary  figure 
standing  by  the  piles. 

Or  was  it  really  the  eye,  and  not  rather  the  heart,  that 
identified  that  shadow  in  the  dusk,  among  the  shoreside 
lamps?  I  know  not.  It  was  Jim,  at  least;  Jim,  come 
for  a  last  look;  and  we  had  but  time  to  wave  a  valedic- 
tory gesture  and  exchange  a  wordless  cry.  This  was 
our  second  parting,  and  our  capacities  were  now  re- 
versed. It  was  mine  to  play  the  Argonaut,  to  speed 
affairs,  to  plan  and  to  accomplish  —  if  need  were,  at  the 
price  of  life ;  it  was  his  to  sit  at  home,  to  study  the  cal- 
endar, and  to  wait.  I  knew  besides  another  thing  that 
gave  me  joy.  I  knew  that  my  friend  had  succeeded  in 
my  education ;  that  the  romance  of  business,  if  our  fan- 
tastic purchase  merited  the  name,  had  at  last  stirred  my 
dilettante  nature ;  and,  as  we  swept  under  cloudy  Tamal- 
pais  and  through  the  roaring  narrows  of  the  bay,  the 
Yankee  blood  sang  in  my  veins  with  suspense  and 
exultation. 

Outside  the  heads,  as  if  to  meet  my  desire,  we  found 
it  blowing  fresh  from  the  northeast.  No  time  had  been 
lost.     The  sun  was  not  yet  up  before  the  tug  cast  off  the 

218 


IN   WHICH  JIM   AND   I   TAKE   DIFFERENT   WAYS 

hawser,  gave  us  a  salute  of  three  whistles,  and  turned 
homeward  toward  the  coast,  which  now  began  to  gleam 
along  its  margin  with  the  earliest  rays  of  day.  There 
was  no  other  ship  in  view  when  the  Norah  Creina,  lying 
over  under  all  plain  sail,  began  her  long  and  lonely  voy- 
age to  the  wreck. 


219 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    "NORAH  CREINA  " 

1 1  ove  to  recall  the  glad  monotony  of  a  Pacific  voyage, 
when  the  trades  are  not  stinted,  and  the  ship,  day  after 
day,  goes  free.  The  mountain  scenery  of  trade-wind 
clouds,  watched  (and  in  my  case  painted)  under  every 
vicissitude  of  light  —  blotting  stars,  withering  in  the 
moon's  glory,  barring  the  scarlet  eve,  lying  across  the 
dawn  collapsed  into  the  unfeatured  morning  bank,  or  at 
noon  raising  their  snowy  summits  between  the  blue 
roof  of  heaven  and  the  blue  floor  of  sea ;  the  small,  busy, 
and  deliberate  world  of  the  schooner,  with  its  unfamiliar 
scenes,  the  spearing  of  dolphin  from  the  bowsprit  end, 
the  holy  war  on  sharks,  the  cook  making  bread  on  the 
main  hatch ;  reefing  down  before  a  violent  squall,  with 
the  men  hanging  out  on  the  foot-ropes ;  the  squall  itself, 
the  catch  at  the  heart,  the  opened  sluices  of  the  sky ;  and 
the  relief,  the  renewed  loveliness  of  life,  when  all  is  over, 
the  sun  forth  again,  and  our  out-fought  enemy  only  a 
blot  upon  the  leeward  sea.  I  love  to  recall,  and  would 
that  I  could  reproduce  that  life,  the  unforgettable,  the  un- 
rememberable.  The  memory,  which  shows  so  wise  a 
backwardness  in  registering  pain,  is  besides  an  imperfect 
recorder  of  extended  pleasures;  and  a  long-continued 
well-being  escapes  (as  it  were,  by  its  mass)  our  petty 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA" 

methods  of  commemoration.  On  a  part  of  our  life's 
map  there  lies  a  roseate,  undecipherable  haze,  and  that 
is  all. 

Of  one  thing,  if  I  am  at  all  to  trust  my  own  annals,  I 
was  delightedly  conscious.  Day  after  day,  in  the  sun- 
gilded  cabin,  the  whisky-dealer's  thermometer  stood 
at  84.  Day  after  day,  the  air  had  the  same  indescribable 
liveliness  and  sweetness,  soft  and  nimble,  and  cool  as 
the  cheek  of  health.  Day  after  day  the  sun  flamed; 
night  after  night  the  moon  beaconed,  or  the  stars  paraded 
their  lustrous  regiment.  I  was  aware  of  a  spiritual 
change,  or,  perhaps,  rather  a  molecular  reconstitution. 
My  bones  were  sweeter  to  me.  I  had  come  home  to 
my  own  climate,  and  looked  back  with  pity  on  those 
damp  and  wintry  zones,  miscalled  the  temperate. 

"Two  years  of  this,  and  comfortable  quarters  to  live 
in,  kind  of  shake  the  grit  out  of  a  man,"  the  captain 
remarked ;  "  can't  make  out  to  be  happy  anywhere  else. 
A  townie  of  mine  was  lost  down  this  way,  in  a  coal  ship 
that  took  fire  at  sea.  He  struck  the  beach  somewhere 
in  the  Navigators;  and  he  wrote  to  me  that  when  he 
left  the  place,  it  would  be  feet  first.  He's  well  off,  too, 
and  his  father  owns  some  coasting  craft  Down  East;  but 
Billy  prefers  the  beach,  and  hot  rolls  off  the  bread-fruit 
trees." 

A  voice  told  me  I  was  on  the  same  track  as  Billy. 
But  when  was  this  ?  Our  outward  track  in  the  Norah 
Creina  lay  well  to  the  northward ;  and  perhaps  it  is  but 
the  impression  of  a  few  pet  days  which  I  have  uncon- 
sciously spread  longer,  or  perhaps  the  feeling  grew  upon 
me  later,  in  the  run  to  Honolulu.  One  thing  I  am  sure: 
it  was  before  I  had  ever  seen  an  island  worthy  of  the 

221 


THE  WRECKER 

name  that  I  must  date  my  loyalty  to  the  South  Seas. 
The  blank  sea  itself  grew  desirable  under  such  skies: 
and  wherever  the  trade-wind  blows,  I  know  no  better 
country  than  a  schooner's  deck. 

But  for  the  tugging  anxiety  as  to  the  journey's  end, 
the  journey  itself  must  thus  have  counted  for  the  best 
of  holidays.  My  physical  well-being  was  over-proof; 
effects  of  sea  and  sky  kept  me  forever  busy  with  my 
pencil ;  and  I  had  no  lack  of  intellectual  exercise  of  a 
different  order  in  the  study  of  my  inconsistent  friend, 
the  captain.  I  call  him  friend,  here  on  the  threshold; 
but  that  is  to  look  well  ahead.  At  first,  I  was  too  much 
horrified  by  what  I  considered  his  barbarities,  too  much 
puzzled  by  his  shifting  humours,  and  too  frequently  an- 
noyed by  his  small  vanities,  to  regard  him  otherwise 
than  as  the  cross  of  my  existence.  It  was  only  by  de- 
grees, in  his  rare  hours  of  pleasantness,  when  he  forgot 
(and  made  me  forget)  the  weaknesses  to  which  he  was 
so  prone,  that  he  won  me  to  a  kind  of  unconsenting 
fondness.  Lastly,  the  faults  were  all  embraced  in  a 
more  generous  view:  I  saw  them  in  their  place,  like 
discords  in  a  musical  progression;  and  accepted  them 
and  found  them  picturesque,  as  we  accept  and  admire, 
in  the  habitable  face  of  nature,  the  smoky  head  of  the 
volcano  or  the  pernicious  thicket  of  the  swamp. 

He  was  come  of  good  people  Down  East,  and  had  the 
beginnings  of  a  thorough  education.  His  temper  had 
been  ungovernable  from  the  first;  and  it  is  likely  the 
defect  was  inherited,  and  the  blame  of  the  rupture  not 
entirely  his.  He  ran  away  at  least  to  sea;  suffered 
horrible  maltreatment,  which  seemed  to  have  rather 
hardened  than  enlightened  him;   ran  away  again  to 

222 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA  " 

shore  in  a  South  American  port;  proved  his  capacity 
and  made  money,  although  still  a  child;  fell  among 
thieves  and  was  robbed;  worked  back  a  passage  to  the 
States,  and  knocked  one  morning  at  the  door  of  an  old 
lady  whose  orchard  he  had  often  robbed.  The  intro- 
duction appears  insufficient;  but  Nares  knew  what  he 
was  doing.  The  sight  of  her  old  neighbourly  depredator 
shivering  at  the  door  in  tatters,  the  very  oddity  of  his 
appeal,  touched  a  soft  spot  in  the  spinster's  heart.  "I 
always  had  a  fancy  for  the  old  lady,"  Nares  said,  "even 
when  she  used  to  stampede  me  out  of  the  orchard,  and 
shake  her  thimble  and  her  old  curls  at  me  out  of  the 
window  as  I  was  going  by ;  I  always  thought  she  was  a 
kind  of  pleasant  old  girl.  Well,  when  she  came  to  the 
door  that  morning,  I  told  her  so,  and  that  I  was  stone- 
broke;  and  she  took  me  right  in,  and  fetched  out  the 
pie."  She  clothed  him,  taught  him,  had  him  to  sea 
again  in  better  shape,  welcomed  him  to  her  hearth  on 
his  return  from  every  cruise,  and  when  she  died,  be- 
queathed him  her  possessions.  "  She  was  a  good  old 
girl,"  he  would  say.  "  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Dodd,  it  was  a 
queer  thing  to  see  me  and  the  old  lady  talking  a  pasear 
in  the  garden,  and  the  old  man  scowling  at  us  over  the 
pickets.  She  lived  right  next  door  to  the  old  man,  and 
I  guess  that's  just  what  took  me  there.  I  wanted  him 
to  know  that  I  was  badly  beat,  you  see,  and  would 
rather  go  to  the  devil  than  to  him.  What  made  the 
dig  harder,  he  had  quarrelled  with  the  old  lady  about 
me  and  the  orchard :  I  guess  that  made  him  rage.  Yes, 
I  was  a  beast  when  I  was  young.  But  I  was  always 
pretty  good  to  the  old  lady."  Since  then  he  had  pros- 
pered, not  uneventfully,  in  his  profession ;  the  old  lady's 

223 


THE  WRECKER 

money  had  fallen  in  during  the  voyage  of  the  Gleaner, 
and  he  was  now,  as  soon  as  the  smoke  of  that  engage- 
ment cleared  away,  secure  of  his  ship.  I  suppose  he 
was  about  thirty:  a  powerful,  active  man,  with  a  blue 
eye,  a  thick  head  of  hair,  about  the  colour  of  oakum  and 
growing  low  over  the  brow;  clean-shaved  and  lean 
about  the  jaw ;  a  good  singer;  a  good  performer  on  that 
sea-instrument,  the  accordion ;  a  quick  observer,  a  close 
reasoner;  when  he  pleased,  of  a  really  elegant  address; 
and  when  he  chose,  the  greatest  brute  upon  the  seas. 
His  usage  of  the  men,  his  hazing,  his  bullying,  his 
perpetual  fault-finding  for  no  cause,  his  perpetual  and 
brutal  sarcasm,  might  have  raised  a  mutiny  in  a  slave 
galley.  Suppose  the  steerman's  eye  to  have  wandered : 
"You — ,  — ,  little,  mutton-faced  Dutchman,"  Nares 
would  bawl ;  "you  want  a  booting  to  keep  you  on  your 
course !  I  know  a  little  city-front  slush  when  I  see  one. 
Just  you  glue  your  eye  to  that  compass,  or  I'll  show  you 
round  the  vessel  at  the  butt-end  of  my  boot."  Or  sup- 
pose a  hand  to  linger  aft,  whither  he  had  perhaps  been 
summoned  not  a  minute  before.  "Mr.  Daniells,  will 
you  oblige  me  by  stepping  clear  of  that  main  sheet  ?  "  the 
captain  might  begin,  with  truculent  courtesy.  "Thank 
you.  And  perhaps  you'll  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  what 
the  hell  you're  doing  on  my  quarter-deck  ?  I  want  no 
dirt  of  your  sort  here.  Is  there  nothing  for  you  to  do  ? 
Where's  the  mate  ?  Don't  you  set  me  to  find  work  for 
you,  or  I'll  find  you  some  that  will  keep  you  on  your 
back  a  fortnight."  Such  allocutions,  conceived  with  a 
perfect  knowledge  of  his  audience,  so  that  every  insult 
carried  home,  were  delivered  with  a  mien  so  menacing 
and  an  eye  so  fiercely  cruel,  that  his  unhappy  subordi- 

224 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA " 

nates  shrank  and  quailed.  Too  often  violence  followed ; 
too  often  I  have  heard  and  seen,  and  boiled  at  the  cow- 
ardly aggression ;  and  the  victim,  his  hands  bound  by 
law,  has  risen  again  from  deck  and  crawled  forward 
stupefied  —  I  know  not  what  passion  of  revenge  in  his 
wronged  heart. 

It  seems  strange  I  should  have  grown  to  like  this 
tyrant.  It  may  even  seem  strange  that  I  should  have 
stood  by  and  suffered  his  excesses  to  proceed.  But  I 
was  not  quite  such  a  chicken  as  to  interfere  in  public ; 
for  I  would  rather  have  a  man  or  two  mishandled  than 
one  half  of  us  butchered  in  a  mutiny  and  the  rest  suffer 
on  the  gallows.  And  in  private,  I  was  unceasing  in  my 
protests. 

"  Captain,"  I  once  said  to  him,  appealing  to  his  patri- 
otism, which  was  of  a  hardy  quality,  "  this  is  no  way 
to  treat  American  seamen.  You  don't  call  it  American 
to  treat  men  like  dogs  ?  " 

"  Americans  ?  "  he  said  grimly.  '*  Do  you  call  these 
Dutchmen  and  Scattermouches  x  Americans  ?  I've  been 
fourteen  years  to  sea,  all  but  one  trip  under  American 
colours,  and  I've  never  laid  eye  on  an  American  foremast 
hand.  There  used  to  be  such  things  in  the  old  days, 
when  thirty-five  dollars  were  the  wages  out  of  Boston ; 
and  then  you  could  see  ships  handled  and  run  the  way 
they  want  to  be.  But  that's  all  past  and  gone;  and 
nowadays  the  only  thing  that  flies  in  an  American  ship 
is  a  belaying-pin.  You  don't  know;  you  haven't  a 
guess.  How  would  you  like  to  go  on  deck  for  your 
middle  watch,  fourteen  months  on  end,  with  all  your 

l  In  sea-lingo  (Pacific)  Dutchman  includes  all  Teutons  and  folk  from 
the  basin  of  the  Baltic;  Scattermouch,  all  Latins  and  Levantines. 

225 


THE  WRECKER 

duty  to  do  and  every  one's  life  depending  on  you,  and 
expect  to  get  a  knife  ripped  into  you  as  you  come  out  of 
your  stateroom,  or  be  sand-bagged  as  you  pass  the 
boat,  or  get  tripped  into  the  hold,  if  the  hatches  are  off 
in  fine  weather  ?  That  kind  of  shakes  the  starch  out  of 
the  brotherly  love  and  New  Jerusalem  business.  You 
go  through  the  mill,  and  you'll  have  a  bigger  grudge 
against  every  old  shellback  that  dirties  his  plate  in  the 
three  oceans,  than  the  Bank  of  California  could  settle 
up.  No;  it  has  an  ugly  look  to  it,  but  the  only  way  to 
run  a  ship  is  to  make  yourself  a  terror." 

"  Come,  Captain,"  said  I,  "there  are  degrees  in  every- 
thing. You  know  American  ships  have  a  bad  name; 
you  know  perfectly  well  if  it  wasn't  for  the  high  wage 
and  the  good  food,  there's  not  a  man  would  ship  in  one 
if  he  could  help ;  and  even  as  it  is,  some  prefer  a  British 
ship,  beastly  food  and  all." 

"O,  the  lime-juicers?"  said  he.  "There's  plenty 
booting  in  lime-juicers,  I  guess;  though  I  don't  deny 
but  what  some  of  them  are  soft."  And  with  that  he 
smiled  like  a  man  recalling  something.  "Look  here, 
that  brings  a  yarn  in  my  head,"  he  resumed;  "and  for 
the  sake  of  the  joke,  I'll  give  myself  away.  It  was  in 
1874,  I  shipped  mate  in  the  British  ship  Maria,  from 
'Frisco  for  Melbourne.  She  was  the  queerest  craft  in 
some  ways  that  ever  I  was  aboard  of.  The  food  was  a 
caution ;  there  was  nothing  fit  to  put  your  lips  to  —  but 
the  lime-juice,  which  was  from  the  end  bin  no  doubt: 
it  used  to  make  me  sick  to  see  the  men's  dinners,  and 
sorry  to  see  my  own.  The  old  man  was  good  enough, 
I  guess;  Green  was  his  name;  a  mild,  fatherly  old 
galoot.     But  the  hands  were  the  lowest  gang  I  ever 

226 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA" 

handled;  and  whenever  I  tried  to  knock  a  little  spirit 
into  them,  the  old  man  took  their  part!  It  was  Gilbert 
and  Sullivan  on  the  high  seas;  but  you  bet  I  wouldn't 
let  any  man  dictate  to  me.  '  You  give  me  your  orders, 
Captain  Green,'  I  said,  'and  you'll  find  I'll  carry  them 
out;  that's  all  you've  got  to  say.  You'll  find  I  do  my 
duty,'  I  said;  'how  I  do  it  is  my  lookout;  and  there's 
no  man  born  that's  going  to  give  me  lessons.'  Well, 
there  was  plenty  dirt  on  board  that  Maria  first  and  last. 
Of  course,  the  old  man  put  my  back  up,  and,  of  course, 
he  put  up  the  crew's;  and  I  had  to  regular  fight  my 
way  through  every  watch.  The  men  got  to  hate  me, 
so's  I  would  hear  them  grit  their  teeth  when  I  came  up. 
At  last,  one  day,  I  saw  a  big  hulking  beast  of  a  Dutch- 
man booting  the  ship's  boy.  I  made  one  shoot  of  it  off 
the  house  and 'laid  that  Dutchman  out.  Up  he  came, 
and  I  laid  him  out  again.  'Now,'  I  said,  'if  there's  a 
kick  left  in  you,  just  mention  it,  and  I'll  stamp  your  ribs 
in  like  a  packing-case.'  He  thought  better  of  it,  and 
never  let  on ;  lay  there  as  mild  as  a  deacon  at  a  funeral ; 
and  they  took  him  below  to  reflect  on  his  native  Dutch- 
land.  One  night  we  got  caught  in  rather  a  dirty  thing 
about  25  south.  I  guess  we  were  all  asleep;  for  the 
first  thing  I  knew  there  was  the  fore-royal  gone.  I  ran 
forward,  bawling  blue  hell ;  and  just  as  I  came  by  the 
foremast,  something  struck  me  right  through  the  fore- 
arm and  stuck  there.  I  put  my  other  hand  up,  and  by 
George !  it  was  the  grain ;  the  beasts  had  speared  me  like 
a  porpoise.  '  Cap'n ! '  I  cried.  — '  What's  wrong  ? '  says 
he. — 'They've  grained  me,'  says  I. — 'Grained  you?' 

says  he.     'Well,  I've  been  looking  for  that.' 'And 

by  God,'  I  cried,  'I  want  to  have  some  of  these  beasts 

227 


THE  WRECKER 

murdered  for  it!' — 'Now,  Mr.  Nares,'  says  he,  'you 
better  go  below.  If  I  had  been  one  of  the  men,  you'd 
have  got  more  than  this.  And  I  want  no  more  of  your 
language  on  deck.  You've  cost  me  my  fore-royal  al- 
ready,' says  he;  'and  if  you  carry  on,  you'll  have  the 
three  sticks  out  of  her.'  That  was  old  man  Green's 
idea  of  supporting  officers.  But  you  wait  a  bit;  the 
cream's  coming.  We  made  Melbourne  right  enough, 
and  the  old  man  said :  '  Mr.  Nares,  you  and  me  don't 
draw  together.  You're  a  first-rate  seaman,  no  mistake 
of  that;  but  you're  the  most  disagreeable  man  I  ever 
sailed  with;  and  your  language  and  your  conduct  to 
the  crew  I  cannot  stomach.  I  guess  we'll  separate.'  I 
didn't  care  about  the  berth,  you  may  be  sure;  but  I  felt 
kind  of  mean;  and  if  he  made  one  kind  of  stink,  I 
thought  I  could  make  another.  So  I  said  I  would  go 
ashore  and  see  how  things  stood;  went,  found  I  was 
all  right,  and  came  aboard  again  on  the  top  rail. — 'Are 
you  getting  your  traps  together,  Mr.  Nares  ? '  says  the 
old  man. — 'No,'  says  I;  '  I  don't  know  as  we'll  separate 
much  before  'Frisco;  at  least,'  I  said,  'it's  a  point  for 
your  consideration.  I'm  very  willing  to  say  good-by 
to  the  Maria,  but  I  don't  know  whether  you'll  care  to 
start  me  out  with  three  months'  wages.'  He  got  his 
money-box  right  away.  'My  son,'  says  he,  'I  think  it 
cheap  at  the  money.'     He  had  me  there." 

It  was  a  singular  tale  for  a  man  to  tell  of  himself ; 
above  all,  in  the  midst  of  our  discussion;  but  it  was 
quite  in  character  for  Nares.  I  never  made  a  good  hit 
in  our  disputes,  I  never  justly  resented  any  act  or  speech 
of  his,  but  what  I  found  it  long  after  carefully  posted  in 
his  day-book  and  reckoned  (here  was  the  man's  oddity) 

228 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA " 

to  my  credit.  It  was  the  same  with  his  father,  whom 
he  had  hated ;  he  would  give  a  sketch  of  the  old  fellow, 
frank  and  credible,  and  yet  so  honestly  touched  that  it 
was  charming.  I  have  never  met  a  man  so  strangely 
constituted :  to  possess  a  reason  of  the  most  equal  jus- 
tice, to  have  his  nerves  at  the  same  time  quivering 
with  petty  spite,  and  to  act  upon  the  nerves  and  not 
the  reason. 

A  kindred  wonder  in  my  eyes  was  the  nature  of  his 
courage.  There  was  never  a  braver  man :  he  went  out 
to  welcome  danger ;  an  emergency  (came  it  never  so  sud- 
den) strung  him  like  a  tonic.  And  yet,  upon  the  other 
hand,  I  have  known  none  so  nervous,  so  oppressed  with 
possibilities,  looking  upon  the  world  at  large,  and  the 
life  of  a  sailor  in  particular,  with  so  constant  and  hag- 
gard a  consideration  of  the  ugly  chances.  All  his  cour- 
age was  in  blood,  not  merely  cold,  but  icy  with  reasoned 
apprehension.  He  would  lay  our  little  craft  rail  under, 
and  "hang  on"  in  a  squall,  until  I  gave  myself  up  for 
lost,  and  the  men  were  rushing  to  their  stations  of  their 
own  accord.  "There,"  he  would  say,  "  I  guess  there's 
not  a  man  on  board  would  have  hung  on  as  long  as  I 
did  that  time;  they'll  have  to  give  up  thinking  me  no 
schooner  sailor.  I  guess  I  can  shave  just  as  near  cap- 
sizing as  any  other  captain  of  this  vessel,  drunk  or  sober. " 
And  then  he  would  fall  to  repining  and  wishing  himself 
well  out  of  the  enterprise,  and  dilate  on  the  peril  of  the 
seas,  the  particular  dangers  of  the  schooner  rig,  which  he 
abhorred,  the  various  ways  in  which  we  might  go  to  the 
bottom,  and  the  prodigious  fleet  of  ships  that  have  sailed 
out  in  the  course  of  history,  dwindled  from  the  eyes  of 
watchers,  and  returned  no  more.     "Well,"  he  would 

229 


THE  WRECKER 

wind  up,  "I  guess  it  don't  much  matter.  I  can't  see 
what  any  one  wants  to  live  for,  anyway.  If  I  could  get 
into  some  one  else's  apple-tree,  and  be  about  twelve  years 
old,  and  just  stick  the  way  I  was,  eating  stolen  apples, 
I  won't  say.  But  there's  no  sense  to  this  grown-up 
business  —  sailorising,  politics,  the  piety  mill,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  Good  clean  drowning  is  good  enough 
for  me."  It  is  hard  to  imagine  any  more  depressing 
talk  for  a  poor  landsman  on  a  dirty  night;  it  is  hard  to 
imagine  anything  less  sailor-like  (as  sailors  are  supposed 
to  be  and  generally  are)  than  this  persistent  harping  on 
the  minor. 

But  I  was  to  see  more  of  the  man's  gloomy  constancy 
ere  the  cruise  was  at  an  end. 

On  the  morning  of  the  seventeenth  day  I  came  on 
deck,  to  find  the  schooner  under  double  reefs,  and  fly- 
ing rather  wild  before  a  heavy  run  of  sea.  Snoring 
trades  and  humming  sails  had  been  our  portion  hitherto. 
We  were  already  nearing  the  island.  My  restrained  ex- 
citement had  begun  again  to  overmaster  me;  and  for 
some  time  my  only  book  had  been  the  patent  log  that 
trailed  over  the  taffrail,  and  my  chief  interest  the  daily 
observation  and  our  caterpillar  progress  across  the  chart. 
My  first  glance,  which  was  at  the  compass,  and  my 
second,  which  was  at  the  log,  were  all  that  I  could 
wish.  We  lay  our  course;  we  had  been  doing  over 
eight  since  nine  the  night  before;  and  I  drew  a  heavy 
breath  of  satisfaction.  And  then  I  know  not  what  odd 
and  wintry  appearance  of  the  sea  and  sky  knocked  sud- 
denly at  my  heart.  I  observed  the  schooner  to  look 
more  than  usually  small,  the  men  silent  and  studious  of 
the  weather.     Nares,  in  one  of  his  rusty  humours,  af- 

230 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA " 

forded  me  no  shadow  of  a  morning  salutation.  He, 
too,  seemed  to  observe  the  behaviour  of  the  ship  with 
an  intent  and  anxious  scrutiny.  What  I  liked  still  less, 
Johnson  himself  was  at  the  wheel,  which  he  span  bus- 
ily, often  with  a  visible  effort;  and  as  the  seas  ranged 
up  behind  us,  black  and  imminent,  he  kept  casting  be- 
hind him  eyes  of  animal  swiftness,  and  drawing  in  his 
neck  between  his  shoulders,  like  a  man  dodging  a  blow. 
From  these  signs,  I  gathered  that  all  was  not  exactly 
for  the  best;  and  I  would  have  given  a  good  handful  of 
dollars  for  a  plain  answer  to  the  questions  which  I  dared 
not  put.  Had  I  dared,  with  the  present  danger  signal 
in  the  captain's  face,  I  should  only  have  been  reminded 
of  my  position  as  supercargo  —  an  office  never  touched 
upon  in  kindness  —  and  advised,  in  a  very  indigestible 
manner,  to  go  below.  There  was  nothing  for  it,  there- 
fore, but  to  entertain  my  vague  apprehensions  as  best  I 
should  be  able,  until  it  pleased  the  captain  to  enlighten 
me  of  his  own  accord.  This  he  did  sooner  than  I  had 
expected;  as  soon,  indeed,  as  the  Chinaman  had  sum- 
moned us  to  breakfast,  and  we  sat  face  to  face  across 
the  narrow  board. 

"See  here,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  began,  looking  at  me 
rather  queerly,  "here  is  a  business  point  arisen.  This 
sea's  been  running  up  for  the  last  two  days,  and  now 
it's  too  high  for  comfort.  The  glass  is  falling,  the  wind 
is  breezing  up,  and  I  won't  say  but  what  there's  dirt  in 
it.  If  I  lay  her  to,  we  may  have  to  ride  out  a  gale  of 
wind  and  drift  God  knows  where  —  on  these  French 
Frigate  Shoals,  for  instance.  If  I  keep  her  as  she  goes, 
we'll  make  that  island  to-morrow  afternoon,  and  have 
the  lee  of  it  to  lie  under,  if  we  can't  make  out  to  run  in. 

231 


THE  WRECKER 

The  point  you  have  to  figure  on,  is  whether  you'll  take 
the  big  chances  of  that  Captain  Trent  making  the  place 
before  you,  or  take  the  risk  of  something  happening. 
I'm  to  run  this  ship  to  your  satisfaction,"  he  added, 
with  an  ugly  sneer.  ''Well,  here's  a  point  for  the 
supercargo." 

"Captain,"  I  returned,  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth, 
"risk  is  better  than  certain  failure." 

"Life  is  all  risk,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  remarked.  "But 
there's  one  thing:  it's  now  or  never;  in  half  an  hour, 
Archdeacon  Gabriel  couldn't  lay  her  to,  if  he  came  down 
stains  on  purpose." 

"All  right,"  said  I.     "  Let's  run." 

"  Run  goes,"  said  he;  and  with  that  he  fell  to  break- 
fast, and  passed  half  an  hour  in  stowing  away  pie  and 
devoutly  wishing  himself  back  in  San  Francisco. 

When  we  came  on  deck  again,  he  took  the  wheel  from 
Johnson  —  it  appears  they  could  trust  none  among  the 
hands  —  and  I  stood  close  beside  him,  feeling  safe  in 
this  proximity,  and  tasting  a  fearful  joy  from  our  sur- 
roundings and  the  consciousness  of  my  decision.  The 
breeze  had  already  risen,  and  as  it  tore  over  our  heads, 
it  uttered  at  times  a  long  hooting  note  that  sent  my 
heart  into  my  boots.  The  sea  pursued  us  without 
remission,  leaping  to  the  assault  of  the  low  rail.  The 
quarter-deck  was  all  awash,  and  we  must  close  the  com- 
panion doors. 

"And  all  this,  if  you  please,  for  Mr.  Pinkertons  dol- 
lars !  "  the  captain  suddenly  exclaimed.  ' '  There's  many 
a  fine  fellow  gone  under,  Mr.  Dodd,  because  of  drivers 
like  your  friend.  What  do  they  care  for  a  ship  or  two  ? 
Insured,  I  guess.     What  do  they  care  for  sailors'  lives 


THE     'NORAH    CREINA " 

alongside  of  a  few  thousand  dollars  ?  What  they  want 
is  speed  between  ports,  and  a  damned  fool  of  a  captain 
that'll  drive  a  ship  under  as  I'm  doing  this  one.  You 
can  put  in  the  morning,  asking  why  I  do  it." 

I  sheered  off  to  another  part  of  the  vessel  as  fast  as 
civility  permitted.  This  was  not  at  all  the  talk  that  I 
desired,  nor  was  the  train  of  reflection  which  it  started 
anyway  welcome.  Here  I  was,  running  some  hazard  of 
my  life,  and  perilling  the  lives  of  seven  others;  exactly 
for  what  end,  I  was  now  at  liberty  to  ask  myself.  For 
a  very  large  amount  of  a  very  deadly  poison,  was  the 
obvious  answer;  and  I  thought  if  all  tales  were  true, 
and  I  were  soon  to  be  subjected  to  cross-examination 
at  the  bar  of  Eternal  Justice,  it  was  one  which  would 
not  increase  my  popularity  with  the  court.  "Well, 
never  mind,  Jim,"  thought  I.     "  I'm  doing  it  for  you." 

Before  eleven,  a  third  reef  was  taken  in  the  mainsail ; 
and  Johnson  filled  the  cabin  with  a  storm-sail  of  No. 
i  duck  and  sat  cross-legged  on  the  streaming  floor, 
vigorously  putting  it  to  rights  with  a  couple  of  the  hands. 
By  dinner  I  had  fled  the  deck,  and  sat  in  the  bench  cor- 
ner, giddy,  dumb,  and  stupefied  with  terror.  The 
frightened  leaps  of  the  poor  hi  or  ah  Creina,  spanking 
like  a  stag  for  bare  existence,  bruised  me  between  the 
table  and  the  berths.  Overhead,  the  wild  huntsman  of 
the  storm  passed  continuously  in  one  blare  of  mingled 
noises;  screaming  wind,  straining  timber,  lashing  rope's 
end,  pounding  block  and  bursting  sea  contributed;  and 
I  could  have  thought  there  was  at  times  another,  a  more 
piercing,  a  more  human  note,  that  dominated  all,  like 
the  wailing  of  an  angel ;  I  could  have  thought  I  knew 
the  angel's  name,  and  that  his  wings  were  black.     It 

23* 


THE  WRECKER 

seemed  incredible  that  any  creature  of  man's  art  could 
long  endure  the  barbarous  mishandling  of  the  seas,  kicked 
as  the  schooner  was  from  mountain  side  to  mountain 
side,  beaten  and  blown  upon  and  wrenched  in  every 
joint  and  sinew,  like  a  child  upon  the  rack.  There  was 
not  a  plank  of  her  that  did  not  cry  aloud  for  mercy;  and 
as  she  continued  to  hold  together,  I  became  conscious 
of  a  growing  sympathy  with  her  endeavours,  a  growing 
admiration  for  her  gallant  staunchness,  that  amused  and 
at  times  obliterated  my  terrors  for  myself.  God  bless 
ev^ry  man  that  swung  a  mallet  on  that  tiny  and  strong 
hull !  It  was  not  for  wages  only  that  he  laboured,  but 
to  save  men's  lives. 

All  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  all  the  following  night,  I 
sat  in  the  corner  or  lay  wakeful  in  my  bunk;  and  it  was 
only  with  the  return  of  morning  that  a  new  phase  of  my 
alarms  drove  me  once  more  on  deck.  A  gloomier  in- 
terval I  never  passed.  Johnson  and  Nares  steadily  re- 
lieved each  other  at  the  wheel  and  came  below.  The 
first  glance  of  each  was  at  the  glass,  which  he  repeat- 
edly knuckled  and  frowned  upon;  for  it  was  sagging 
lower  all  the  time.  Then,  if  Johnson  were  the  visitor, 
he  would  pick  a  snack  out  of  the  cupboard,  and  stand, 
braced  against  the  table,  eating  it,  and  perhaps  obliging 
me  with  a  word  or  two  of  his  hee-haw  conversation : 
how  it  was  "a  son  of  a  gun  of  a  cold  night  on  deck, 
Mr.  Dodd  "  (with  a  grin);  how  "it  wasn't  no  night  for 
panjammers,  he  could  tell  me":  having  transacted  all 
which,  he  would  throw  himself  down  in  his  bunk  and 
sleep  his  two  hours  with  compunction.  But  the  cap- 
tain neither  ate  nor  slept.  "You  there,  Mr.  Dodd?" 
he  would  say,  after  the  obligatory  visit  to  the  glass. 

234 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA " 

"  Well,  my  son,  we're  one  hundred  and  four  miles  "  (or 
whatever  it  was)  "off  the  island,  and  scudding  for  all 
we're  worth.  We'll  make  it  to-morrow  about  four,  or 
not,  as  the  case  may  be.  That's  the  news.  And  now, 
Mr.  Dodd,  I've  stretched  a  point  for  you;  you  can  see 
I'm  dead  tired ;  so  just  you  stretch  away  back  to  your 
bunk  again."  And  with  this  attempt  at  geniality,  his 
teeth  would  settle  hard  down  on  his  cigar,  and  he  would 
pass  his  spell  below  staring  and  blinking  at  the  cabin 
lamp  through  a  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke.  He  has  told 
me  since  that  he  was  happy,  which  I  should  never  have 
divined.  "You  see,"  he  said,  "the  wind  we  had  was 
never  anything  out  of  the  way ;  but  the  sea  was  really 
nasty,  the  schooner  wanted  a  lot  of  humouring,  and  it 
was  clear  from  the  glass  that  we  were  close  to  some 
dirt.  We  might  be  running  out  of  it  or  we  might  be 
running  right  crack  into  it.  Well,  there's  always  some- 
thing sublime  about  a  big  deal  like  that;  and  it  kind  of 
raises  a  man  in  his  own  liking.  We're  a  queer  kind  of 
beasts,  Mr.  Dodd." 

The  morning  broke  with  sinister  brightness ;  the  air 
alarmingly  transparent,  the  sky  pure,  the  rim  of  the 
horizon  clear  and  strong  against  the  heavens.  The  wind 
and  the  wild  seas,  now  vastly  swollen,  indefatigably 
hunted  us.  I  stood  on  deck,  choking  with  fear;  I 
seemed  to  lose  all  power  upon  my  limbs ;  my  knees  were 
as  paper  when  she  plunged  into  the  murderous  valleys; 
my  heart  collapsed  when  some  black  mountain  fell  in 
avalanche  beside  her  counter,  and  the  water,  that  was 
more  than  spray,  swept  round  my  ankles  like  a  torrent. 
I  was  conscious  of  but  one  strong  desire,  to  bear  myself 
decently  in  my  terrors,  and  whatever  should  happen  to 

335 


THE   WRECKER 

my  life,  preserve  my  character:  as  the  captain  said,  we 
are  a  queer  kind  of  beasts.  Breakfast  time  came,  and 
I  made  shift  to  swallow  some  hot  tea.  Then  I  must 
stagger  below  to  take  the  time,  reading  the  chronome- 
ter with  dizzy  eyes,  and  marvelling  the  while  what  value 
there  could  be  in  observations  taken  in  a  ship  launched 
(as  ours  then  was)  like  a  missile  among  flying  seas. 
The  forenoon  dragged  on  in  a  grinding  monotony  of 
peril ;  every  spoke  of  the  wheel  a  rash,  but  an  obliged 
experiment  —  rash  as  a  forlorn  hope,  needful  as  the  leap 
thnt  lands  a  fireman  from  a  burning  staircase.  Noon 
was  made ;  the  captain  dined  on  his  day's  work,  and  r 
on  watching  him;  and  our  place  was  entered  on  the 
chart  with  a  meticulous  precision  which  seemed  to  me 
half  pitiful  and  half  absurd,  since  the  next  eye  to  behold 
that  sheet  of  paper  might  be  the  eye  of  an  exploring 
fish.  One  o'clock  came,  then  two ;  the  captain  gloomed 
and  chafed,  as  he  held  to  the  coaming  of  the  house,  and 
if  ever  I  saw  dormant  murder  in  man's  eye,  it  was  in 
his.  God  help  the  hand  that  should  have  disobeyed 
him. 

Of  a  sudden,  he  turned  towards  the  mate,  who  was 
doing  his  trick  at  the  wheel. 

"Two  points  on  the  port  bow,"  I  heard  him  say. 
And  he  took  the  wheel  himself. 

Johnson  nodded,  wiped  his  eyes  with  the  back  of  his 
wet  hand,  watched  a  chance  as  the  vessel  lunged  up  hill, 
and  got  to  the  main  rigging,  where  he  swarmed  aloft. 
Up  and  up,  I  watched  him  go,  hanging  on  at  every  ugly 
plunge,  gaining  with  every  lull  of  the  schooner's  move- 
ment, until,  clambering  into  the  cross-trees  and  clinging 
with  one  arm  around  the  masts,  I  could  see  him  take 


THE   "NORAH   CREINA  " 

one  comprehensive  sweep  of  the  southwesterly  horizon. 
The  next  moment,  he  had  slid  down  the  backstay  and 
stood  on  deck,  with  a  grin,  a  nod,  and  a  gesture  of  the 
linger  that  said,  *;yes";  the  next  again,  and  he  was 
back  sweating  and  squirming  at  the  wheel,  his  tired 
face  streaming  and  smiling,  and  his  hair  and  the  rags 
and  corners  of  his  clothes  lashing  round  him  in  the 
wind. 

Nares  went  below,  fetched  up  his  binocular,  and  fell 
into  a  silent  perusal  of  the  sea-line;  1  also,  with  my  un- 
aided eyesight.  Little  by  little,  in  that  white  waste  of 
water,  I  began  to  make  out  a  quarter  where  the  white- 
ness appeared  more  condensed:  the  sky  above  was 
whitish  likewise,  and  misty  like  a  squall ;  and  little  by 
little  there  thrilled  upon  my  ears  a  note  deeper  and  more 
terrible  than  the  yelling  of  the  gale  —  the  long,  thunder- 
ing roll  of  breakers.  Nares  wiped  his  night  glass  on  his 
sieeve  and  passed  it  to  me,  motioning,  as  he  did  so,  with 
his  hand.  An  endless  wilderness  of  ranging  billows 
came  and  went  and  danced  in  the  circle  of  the  glass; 
now  and  then  a  pale  corner  of  sky,  or  the  strong  line  ot 
the  horizon  rugged  with  the  heads  of  waves ;  and  then 
of  a  sudden  —  come  and  gone  ere  I  could  fix  it,  with  a 
swallow's  swiftness — one  glimpse  of  what  we  had  come 
so  far  and  paid  so  dear  to  see :  the  masts  and  rigging  of 
a  brig  pencilled  on  heaven,  with  an  ensign  streaming  at 
the  main,  and  the  ragged  ribbons  of  a  topsail  thrashing 
from  the  yard.  Again  and  again,  with  toilful  searching, 
I  recalled  that  apparition.  There  was  no  sign  of  any 
land ;  the  wreck  stood  between  sea  and  sky,  a  thing  the 
most  isolated  I  had  ever  viewed ;  but  as  we  drew  nearer, 
1  perceived  her  to  be  defended  by  a  line  of  breakers 

237 


THE   WRECKER 

^vhich  drew  off  on  either  hand  and  marked,  indeed,  the 
nearest  segment  of  the  reef.  Heavy  spray  hung  over 
them  like  a  smoke,  some  hundred  feet  into  the  air;  and 
the  sound  of  their  consecutive  explosions  rolled  like  a 
cannonade. 

In  half  an  hour  we  were  close  in ;  for  perhaps  as  long 
again,  we  skirted  that  formidable  barrier  towards  its 
farther  side;  and  presently  the  sea  began  insensibly  to 
moderate  and  the  ship  to  go  more  sweetly.  We  had 
gained  the  lee  of  the  island  as  (for  form's  sake)  I  may 
call  that  ring  of  foam  and  haze  and  thunder;  and 
shading  out  a  reef,  wore  ship  and  headed  for  the  pas- 
sage. 


3*8 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   ISLAND   AND   THE   WRECK 

All  hands  were  filled  with  joy.  It  was  betrayed  in 
their  alacrity  and  easy  faces:  Johnson  smiling  broadly 
at  the  wheel,  Nares  studying  the  sketch  chart  of  the 
island  with  an  eye  at  peace,  and  the  hands  clustered 
forward,  eagerly  talking  and  pointing:  so  manifest  was 
our  escape,  so  wonderful  the  attraction  of  a  single  foot 
of  earth  after  so  many  suns  had  set  and  risen  on  an 
empty  sea.  To  add  to  the  relief,  besides,  by  one  of 
those  malicious  coincidences  which  suggest  for  fate  the 
image  of  an  underbred  and  grinning  schoolboy,  we  had 
no  sooner  worn  ship  than  the  wind  began  to  abate. 

For  myself,  however,  I  did  but  exchange  anxieties.  I 
was  no  sooner  out  of  one  fear  than  I  fell  upon  another; 
no  sooner  secure  that  I  should  myself  make  the  intended 
haven,  than  I  began  to  be  convinced  that  Trent  was 
there  before  me.  I  climbed  into  the  rigging,  stood  on 
the  board,  and  eagerly  scanned  that  ring  of  coral  reef 
and  bursting  breaker,  and  the  blue  lagoon  which  they 
enclosed.  The  two  islets  within  began  to  show  plainly 
—  Middle  Brooks  and  Lower  Brooks  Island,  the  Direc- 
tory named  them :  two  low,  bush-covered,  rolling  strips 
of  sand,  each  with  glittering  beaches,  each  perhaps  a 
mile  or  a  mile  and  a  half  in  length,  running  east  and 

239 


THE  WRECKER 

west,  and  divided  by  a  narrow  channel.  Over  these., 
innumerable  as  maggots,  there  hovered,  chattered, 
screamed  and  clanged,  millions  of  twinkling  sea-birds: 
white  and  black;  the  black  by  far  the  largest.  With 
singular  scintillations,  this  vortex  of  winged  life  swayed 
to  and  fro  in  the  strong  sunshine,  whirled  continually 
through  itself,  and  would  now  and  again  burst  asunder 
and  scatter  as  wide  as  the  lagoon :  so  that  I  was  irresis- 
tibly reminded  of  what  I  had  read  of  nebular  convulsions. 
A  thin  cloud  overspread  the  area  of  the  reef  and  the  ad- 
jacent sea  —  the  dust,  as  I  could  not  but  fancy,  of  earlier 
explosions.  And  a  little  apart,  there  was  yet  another 
focus  of  centrifugal  and  centripetal  flight,  where,  hard 
by  the  deafening  line  of  breakers,  her  sails  (all  but  the 
tattered  topsail)  snugly  furled  down,  and  the  red  rag 
that  marks  Old  England  on  the  seas  beating,  union 
down,  at  the  main  —  the  Flying  Scud,  the  fruit  of  so 
many  toilers,  a  recollection  in  so  many  lives  of  men, 
whose  tall  spars  had  been  mirrored  in  the  remotest  cor- 
ners of  the  sea  —  lay  stationary  at  last  and  forever,  in 
the  first  stage  of  naval  dissolution.  Towards  her,  the 
taut  Nor  ah  Creina,  vulture-wise,  wriggled  to  windward : 
come  from  so  far  to  pick  her  bones.  And,  look  as  I 
pleased,  there  was  no  other  presence  of  man  or  of  man's 
handiwork;  no  Honolulu  schooner  lay  there  crowded 
with  armed  rivals,  no  smoke  rose  from  the  fire  at 
which  I  fancied  Trent  cooking  a  meal  of  sea-birds.  It 
seemed,  after  all,  we  were  in  time,  and  I  drew  a  mighty 
breath. 

I  had  not  arrived  at  this  reviving  certainty  before  the 
breakers  were  already  close  aboard,  the  leadsman  at  his 
station,  and  the  captain  posted  in  the  fore  cross-trees  to 

240 


THE   ISLAND   AND  THE   WRECK 

con  us  through  the  coral  lumps  of  the  lagoon.  All  cir- 
cumstances were  in  our  favour,  the  light  behind,  the 
sun  low,  the  wind  still  fresh  and  steady,  and  the  tide 
about  the  turn.  A  moment  later  we  shot  at  racing 
speed  betwixt  two  pier  heads  of  broken  water;  the  lead 
began  to  be  cast,  the  captain  to  bawl  down  his  anxious 
directions,  the  schooner  to  tack  and  dodge  among  the 
scattered  dangers  of  the  lagoon ;  and  at  one  bell  in  the 
first  dog  watch,  we  had  come  to  our  anchor  ofTthe  north- 
east end  of  Middle  Brooks  Island,  in  five  fathoms  water. 
The  sails  were  gasketted  and  covered,  the  boats  emptied 
of  the  miscellaneous  stores  and  odds  and  ends  of  sea- 
furniture,  that  accumulate  in  the  course  of  a  voyage, 
the  kedge  sent  ashore,  and  the  decks  tidied  down:  a 
good  three-quarters  of  an  hour's  work,  during  which  1 
raged  about  the  deck  like  a  man  with  a  strong  tooth- 
ache. The  transition  from  the  wild  sea  to  the  compara- 
tive immobility  of  the  lagoon  had  wrought  strange  dis- 
tress among  my  nerves :  I  could  not  hold  still  whether 
in  hand  or  foot;  the  slowness  of  the  men,  tired  as  dogs 
after  our  rough  experience  outside,  irritated  me  like 
something  personal;  and  the  irrational  screaming  of 
the  sea-birds  saddened  me  like  a  dirge.  It  was  a  relief 
when,  with  Nares,  and  a  couple  of  hands,  I  might  drop 
into  the  boat  and  move  off  at  last  for  the  Flying  Scud. 
"She  looks  kind  of  pitiful,  don't  she ?"  observed  the 
captain,  nodding  towards  the  wreck,  from  which  we 
were  separated  by  some  half  a  mile.  "  Looks  as  if  she 
didn't  like  her  berth,  and  Captain  Trent  had  used  her 
badly.  Give  her  ginger,  boys !  "  he  added  to  the  hands, 
"  and  you  can  all  have  shore  liberty  to-night  to  see  the 
birds  and  paint  the  town  red." 

241 


THE  WRECKER 

We  all  laughed  at  the  pleasantry,  and  the  boat  skimmed 
the  faster  over  the  rippling  face  of  the  lagoon.  The 
Flying  Scud  would  have  seemed  small  enough  beside  the 
wharves  of  San  Francisco,  but  she  was  some  thrice 
the  size  of  the  Norah  Creina,  which  had  been  so  long 
our  continent;  and  as  we  craned  up  at  her  wall-sides, 
she  impressed  us  with  a  mountain  magnitude.  She 
lay  head  to  the  reef,  where  the  huge  blue  wall  of  the 
rollers  was  forever  ranging  up  and  crumbling  down; 
and  to  gain  her  starboard  side,  we  must  pass  below  the 
stern.  The  rudder  was  hard  aport,  and  we  could  read 
the  legend : 

FLYING  SCUD 


HULL 


On  the  other  side,  about  the  break  of  the  poop,  some 
half  a  fathom  of  rope  ladder  trailed  over  the  rail,  and 
by  this  we  made  our  entrance. 

She  was  a  roomy  ship  inside,  with  a  rcrsed  poop 
standing  some  three  feet  higher  than  the  deck,  and  a 
small  forward  house,  for  the  men's  bunks  and  the  gal- 
ley, just  abaft  the  foremast.  There  was  one  boat  on  the 
house,  and  another  and  larger  one,  in  beds  on  deck,  on 
either  hand  of  it.  She  had  been  painted  white,  with 
tropical  economy,  outside  and  in ;  and  we  found,  later 
on,  that  the  stanchions  of  the  rail,  hoops  of  the  scuttle- 
butt, etc.,  were  picked  out  with  green.  At  that  time, 
however,  when  we  first  stepped  aboard,  all  was  hidden 
under  the  droppings  of  innumerable  sea-birds. 

The  birds  themselves  gyrated  and  screamed  mean- 
while among  the  rigging;  and  when  we  looked  into  the 

242 


THE  ISLAND   AND  THE  WRECK 

galley,  their  outrush  drove  us  back.  Savage-looking 
fowl  they  were,  savagely  beaked,  and  some  of  the  black 
ones  great  as  eagles.  Half-buried  in  the  slush,  we  were 
aware  of  a  litter  of  kegs  in  the  waist;  and  these,  on  be- 
ing somewhat  cleaned,  proved  to  be  water  beakers  and 
quarter  casks  of  mess  beef  with  some  colonial  brand, 
doubtless  collected  there  before  the  Tempest  hove  in 
sight,  and  while  Trent  and  his  men  had  no  better 
expectation  than  to  strike  for  Honolulu  in  the  boats. 
Nothing  else  was  notable  on  deck,  save  where  the  loose 
topsail  had  played  some  havoc  with  the  rigging,  and 
there  hung,  and  swayed,  and  sang  in  the  declining 
wind,  a  raffle  of  intorted  cordage. 

With  a  shyness  that  was  almost  awe,  Nares  and  I 
descended  the  companion.  The  stair  turned  upon  itself 
and  landed  us  just  forward  of  a  thwart-ship  bulkhead 
that  cut  the  poop  in  two.  The  fore  part  formed  a 
kind  of  miscellaneous  storeroom,  with  a  double-bunked 
division  for  the  cook  (as  Nares  supposed)  and  second 
mate.  The  after  part  contained,  in  the  midst,  the  main 
cabin,  running  in  a  kind  of  bow  into  the  curvature  of 
the  stern ;  on  the  port  side,  a  pantry  opening  forward 
and  a  stateroom  for  the  mate;  and  on  the  starboard, 
the  captain's  berth  and  water-closet.  Into  these  we  did 
but  glance :  the  main  cabin  holding  us.  It  was  dark,  for 
the  sea-birds  had  obscured  the  skylight  with  their  drop- 
pings ;  it  smelt  rank  and  fusty ;  and  it  was  beset  with  a 
loud  swarm  of  flies  that  beat  continually  in  our  faces. 
Supposing  them  close  attendants  upon  man  and  his 
broken  meat,  I  marvelled  how  they  had  found  their  way 
to  Midway  reef;  it  was  sure  at  least  some  vessel  must 
have  brought  them,  and  that  long  ago,  for  they  had 

243 


THE   WRECKER 

multiplied  exceedingly.  Part  of  the  floor  was  strewn 
with  a  confusion  of  clothes,  books,  nautical  instruments, 
odds  and  ends  of  finery,  and  such  trash  as  might  be 
expected  from  the  turning  out  of  several  seaman's  chests, 
upon  a  sudden  emergency  and  after  a  long  cruise.  It 
was  strange  in  that  dim  cabin,  quivering  with  the  near 
thunder  of  the  breakers  and  pierced  with  the  screaming 
of  the  fowls,  to  turn  over  so  many  things  that  other 
men  had  coveted,  and  prized,  and  worn  on  their  warm 
bodies  —  frayed  old  underclothing,  pyjamas  of  strange 
design,  duck  suits  in  every  stage  of  rustiness,  oil  skins, 
pilot  coats,  bottles  of  scent,  embroidered  shirts,  jackets 
of  Ponjee  silk  —  clothes  for  the  night  watch  at  sea  or 
the  day  ashore  in  the  hotel  verandah;  and  mingled 
among  these,  books,  cigars,  fancy  pipes,  quantities 
of  tobacco,  many  keys,  a  rusty  pistol,  and  a  sprink- 
ling of  cheap  curiosities  —  Benares  brass,  Chinese  jars 
and  pictures,  and  bottles  of  odd  shells  in  cotton,  each 
designed  no  doubt  for  somebody  at  home  —  perhaps  in 
Hull,  of  which  Trent  had  been  a  nati/e  and  his  ship  a 
citizen. 

Thence  we  turned  our  attention  to  the  table,  which 
stood  spread,  as  if  for  a  meal,  with  stout  ship's  crockery 
and  the  remains  of  food  —  a  pot  of  marmalade,  dregs  of 
coffee  in  the  mugs,  unrecognisable  remains  of  foods, 
bread,  some  toast,  and  a  tin  of  condensed  milk.  The 
table-cloth,  originally  of  a  red  colour,  was  stained  a 
dark  brown  at  the  captain's  end,  apparently  with  coffee ; 
at  the  other  end,  it  had  been  folded  back,  and  a  pen 
and  ink-pot  stood  on  the  bare  table.  Stools  were 
here  and  there  about  the  table,  irregularly  placed,  as 
though  the  meal  had  been  finished  and  the  men  smok- 

244 


THE    ISLAND   AND   THE   WRECK 

ing  and  chatting;  and  one  of  the  stools  lay  on  the  floor, 
broken. 

"See!  they  were  writing  up  the  log,"  said  Nares, 
pointing  to  the  ink-bottle.  "Caught  napping,  as  usual. 
I  wonder  if  there  ever  was  a  captain  yet,  that  lost  a 
ship  with  his  log-book  up  to  date  ?  He  generally  has 
about  a  month  to  fill  up  on  a  clean  break,  like  Charles 
Dickens  and  his  serial  novels.  —  What  a  regular,  lime- 
juicer  spread!"  he  added  contemptuously.  "Marma- 
lade—  and  toast  for  the  old  man!  Nasty,  slovenly 
pigs!" 

There  was  something  in  this  criticism  of  the  absent 
that  jarred  upon  my  feelings.  I  had  no  love  indeed  for 
Captain  Trent  or  any  of  his  vanished  gang;  but  the  de- 
sertion and  decay  of  this  once  habitable  cabin  struck  me 
hard:  the  death  of  man's  handiwork  is  melancholy  like 
the  death  of  man  himself;  and  I  was  impressed  with  an 
involuntary  and  irrational  sense  of  tragedy  in  my  sur- 
roundings. 

"This  sickens  me,"  I  said.  "Let's  go  on  deck  and 
breathe." 

The  captain  nodded.  "  It  is  kind  of  lonely,  isn't  it?  " 
he  said.  "But  I  can't  go  up  till  I  get  the  code  signals. 
I  want  to  run  up  'Got  Left'  or  something,  just  to 
brighten  up  this  island  home.  Captain  Trent  hasn't 
been  here  yet,  but  he'll  drop  in  before  long;  and  it'll 
cheer  him  up  to  see  a  signal  on  the  brig." 

"Isn't  there  some  official  expression  we  could  use?" 
I  asked,  vastly  taken  by  the  fancy.  ' ' '  Sold  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  underwriters:  for  further  particulars,  apply  to 
J.  Pinkerton,  Montana  Block,  S.  F.'  " 

"Well,"  returned  Nares,  "I  won't  say  but  what  an 

/ 


THE  WRECKER 

old  navy  quartermaster  might  telegraph  all  that,  if  you 
gave  him  a  day  to  do  it  in  and  a  pound  of  tobacco  for 
himself.  But  it's  above  my  register.  I  must  try  some- 
thing short  and  sweet:  KB,  urgent  signal,  'Heave  all 
aback ' ;  or  LM,  urgent,  '  The  berth  you're  now  in  is  not 
safe ' ;  or  what  do  you  say  to  PQH  ? — '  Tell  my  owners 
the  ship  answers  remarkably  well.'  " 

"It's  premature,"  I  replied;  "but  it  seems  calculated 
to  give  pain  to  Trent.     PQH  for  me." 

The  flags  were  found  in  Trent's  cabin,  neatly  stored 
behind  a  lettered  grating;  Nares  chose  what  he  required 
and  (I  following)  returned  on  deck,  where  the  sun  had 
already  dipped,  and  the  dusk  was  coming. 

*  *  Here !  don't  touch  that,  you  fool ! "  shouted  the  cap- 
tain to  one  of  the  hands,  who  was  drinking  from  the 
scuttle-butt.     ' '  That  water's  rotten ! " 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  replied  the  man.  "Tastes  quite 
sweet." 

"Let  me  see,"  returned  Nares,  and  he  took  the  dip- 
per and  held  it  to  his  lips.  "Yes,  it's  all  right,"  he 
said.  ' '  Must  have  rotted  and  come  sweet  again.  Queer, 
isn't  it,  Mr.  Dodd  ?  Though  I've  known  the  same  on 
a  Cape-Horner." 

There  was  something  in  his  intonation  that  made  me 
look  him  in  the  face;  he  stood  a  little  on  tiptoe  to  look 
right  and  left  about  the  ship,  like  a  man  filled  with  curi- 
osity, and  his  whole  expression  and  bearing  testified  to 
some  suppressed  excitement. 

"  You  don't  believe  what  you're  saying!  "  I  broke  out. 

"O,  I  don't  know  but  what  I  do!"  he  replied,  lay- 
ing a  hand  upon  me  soothingly.  "The  thing's  very 
possible.    Only,  I'm  bothered  about  something  else." 

246 


THE   ISLAND  AND  THE  WRECK 

And  with  that  he  called  a  hand,  gave  him  the  code 
flags,  and  stepped  himself  to  the  main  signal  halliards, 
which  vibrated  under  the  weight  of  the  ensign  overhead. 
A  minute  later,  the  American  colours,  which  we  had 
brought  in  the  boat,  replaced  the  English  red,  and  PQH 
was  fluttering  at  the  fore. 

' '  Now,  then, "  said  Nares,  who  had  watched  the  break- 
ing out  of  his  signal  with  the  old-maidish  particularity 
of  an  American  sailor,  "out  with  those  handspikes,  and 
let's  see  what  water  there  is  in  the  lagoon." 

The  bars  were  shoved  home;  the  barbarous  caco- 
phony of  the  clanking  pump  rose  in  the  waist;  and 
streams  of  ill-smelling  water  gushed  on  deck  and  made 
valleys  in  the  slab  guano.  Nares  leaned  on  the  rail, 
watching  the  steady  stream  of  bilge  as  though  he  found 
some  interest  in  it. 

"  What  is  it  that  bothers  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  one  thing  shortly,"  he  replied. 
"  But  here's  another.  Do  you  see  those  boats  there, 
one  on  the  house  and  two  on  the  beds  ?  Well,  where 
is  the  boat  Trent  lowered  when  he  lost  the  hands  ?" 

"Got  it  aboard  again,  I  suppose,"  said  I. 

"Well,  if  you'll  tell  me  why!  "  returned  the  captain. 

"Then  it  must  have  been  another,"  I  suggested. 

"She  might  have  carried  another  on  the  main  hatch, 
I  won't  deny,"  admitted  Nares;  "but  I  can't  see  what 
she  wanted  with  it,  unless  it  was  for  the  old  man  to  go 
out  and  play  the  accordion  in,  on  moonlight  nights." 

"It  can't  much  matter,  anyway,"  I  reflected. 

"O,  I  don't  suppose  it  does,"  said  he,  glancing  over 
his  shoulder  at  the  spouting  of  the  scuppers. 

"And  how  long  are  we  to  keep  up  this  racket?"  I 
247 


THE   WRECKER 

asked.  "  Were  simply  pumping  up  the  lagoon.  Cap- 
tain Trent  himself  said  she  had  settled  down  and  was 
full  forward." 

"Did  he?"  said  Nares,  with  a  significant  dryness. 
And  almost  as  he  spoke  the  pumps  sucked,  and  sucked 
again,  and  the  men  threw  down  their  bars.  "There, 
what  do  you  make  of  that  ?  "  he  asked.  "Now,  I'll  tell, 
Mr.  Dodd,"  he  went  on,  lowering  his  voice,  but  not 
shifting  from  his  easy  attitude  against  the  rail,  "this 
ship  is  as  sound  as  the  Norah  Creina.  I  had  a  guess  of 
it  before  we  came  aboard,  and  now  I  know." 

"  It's  not  possible !  "  I  cried.  "What  do  you  make  of 
Trent  ?  " 

"  I  don't  make  anything  of  Trent;  I  don't  know  whe- 
ther he's  a  lia>  or  only  an  old  wife;  I  simply  tell  you 
what's  the  fact,"  said  Nares.  "  And  I'll  tell  you  some- 
thing more,"  he  added:  "  I've  taken  the  ground  myself 
in  deep-water  vessels;  I  know  what  I'm  saying;  and  I 
say  that,  when  she  first  struck  and  before  she  bedded 
down,  seven  or  eight  hours'  work  would  have  got  this 
hooker  off,  and  there's  no  man  that  ever  went  two  years 
to  sea  but  must  have  known  it." 

I  could  only  utter  an  exclamation. 

Nares  raised  his  finger  warningly.  "Don't  let  them 
get  hold  of  it,"  said  he.  "Think  what  you  like,  but 
say  nothing." 

I  glanced  round;  the  dusk  was  melting  into  early 
night;  the  twinkle  of  a  lantern  marked  the  schooner's 
position  in  the  distance ;  and  our  men,  free  from  further 
labour,  stood  grouped  together  in  the  waist,  their  faces 
illuminated  by  their  glowing  pipes. 

"Why  didn't  Trent  get  her  off?  "  inquired  the  cap- 
248 


THE    ISLAND   AND   THE   WRECK 

tain.  "Why  did  he  want  to  buy  her  back  in  'Frisco 
for  these  fabulous  sums,  when  he  might  have  sailed  her 
into  the  bay  himself?" 

"Perhaps  he  never  knew  her  value  until  then,"  I 
suggested. 

"  I  wish  we  knew  her  value  now,"  exclaimed  Nares. 
"  However,  I  don't  want  to  depress  you;  I'm  sorry  for 
you,  Mr.  Dodd;  I  know  how  bothering  it  must  be  to 
you;  and  the  best  I  can  say's  this:  I  haven't  taken 
much  time  getting  down,  and  now  I'm  here  I  mean 
to  work  this  thing  in  proper  style.  I  just  want  to 
put  your  mind  at  rest :  you  shall  have  no  trouble  with 
me." 

There  was  something  trusty  and  friendly  in  bis  voice ; 
and  I  found  myself  gripping  hands  with  him,  in  that 
hard,  short  shake  that  means  so  much  with  English- 
speaking  people. 

"We'll  do,  old  fellow,"  said  he.  "We've  shaken 
down  into  pretty  good  friends,  you  and  me;  and  you 
won't  find  me  working  the  business  any  the  less  hard 
for  that.     And  now  let's  scoot  for  supper." 

After  supper,  with  the  idle  curiosity  of  the  seafarer, 
we  pulled  ashore  in  a  fine  moonlight,  and  landed  on 
Middle  Brooks  Island.  A  flat  beach  surrounded  it  upon 
all  sides ;  and  the  midst  was  occupied  by  a  thicket  of 
bushes,  the  highest  of  them  scarcely  five  feet  high,  in 
which  the  sea-fowl  lived.  Through  this  we  tried  at 
first  to  strike ;  but  it  were  easier  to  cross  Trafalgar  Square 
upon  a  day  of  demonstration  than  to  invade  these  haunts 
of  sleeping  sea-birds ;  the  nests  sank,  and  the  eggs  burst 
under  footing;  wings  beat  in  our  faces,  beaks  menaced 
our  eyes,  our  minds  were  confounded  with  the  screech- 

240 


THE  WRECKER 

ing,  and  the  coil  spread  over  the  island  and  mounted 
high  into  the  air. 

"I  guess  we'll  saunter  round  the  beach,"  said  Nares, 
when  we  had  made  good  our  retreat. 

The  hands  were  all  busy  after  sea-birds'  eggs,  so  there 
were  none  to  follow  us.  Our  way  lay  on  the  crisp  sand 
by  the  margin  of  the  water:  on  one  side,  the  thicket 
from  which  we  had  been  dislodged;  on  the  other,  the 
face  of  the  lagoon,  barred  with  a  broad  path  of  moon- 
light, and  beyond  that,  the  line,  alternately  dark  and 
shining,  alternately  hove  high  and  fallen  prone,  of  the 
external  breakers.  The  beach  was  strewn  with  bits  of 
wreck  and  drift:  some  redwood  and  spruce  logs,  no  less 
than  two  lower  masts  of  junks,  and  the  stern-post  of  a 
European  ship;  all  of  which  we  looked  on  with  a  shade 
of  serious  concern,  speaking  of  the  dangers  of  the  sea 
and  the  hard  case  of  castaways.  In  this  sober  vein  we 
made  the  greater  part  of  the  circuit  of  the  island ;  had  a 
near  view  of  its  neighbour  from  the  southern  end ;  walked 
the  whole  length  of  the  westerly  side  in  the  shadow 
of  the  thicket ;  and  came  forth  again  into  the  moonlight 
at  the  opposite  extremity. 

On  our  right,  at  the  distance  of  about  half  a  mile,  the 
schooner  lay  faintly  heaving  at  her  anchors.  About  half 
a  mile  down  the  beach,  at  a  spot  still  hidden  from  us  by 
the  thicket,  an  upboiling  of  the  birds  showed  where  the 
men  were  still  (with  sailor-like  insatiability)  collecting 
eggs.  And  right  before  us,  in  a  small  indentation  of  the 
sand,  we  were  aware  of  a  boat  lying  high  and  dry,  and 
right  side  up. 

Nares  crouched  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  bushes, 

u  What  the  devil's  this  ?"  he  whispered. 
250 


THE   ISLAND   AND   THE   WRECK 

"Trent,"  I  suggested,  with  a  beating  heart. 

"We  were  damned  fools  to  come  ashore  unarmed," 
said  he.  "But  I've  got  to  know  where  I  stand."  In 
the  shadow,  his  face  looked  conspicuously  white,  and 
his  voice  betrayed  a  strong  excitement.  He  took  his 
boat's  whistle  from  his  pocket.  "  In  case  I  might  want 
to  play  a  tune,"  said  he,  grimly,  and  thrusting  it  be- 
tween his  teeth,  advanced  into  the  moonlit  open; 
which  we  crossed  with  rapid  steps,  looking  guiltily 
about  us  as  we  went.  Not  a  leaf  stirred ;  and  the  boat, 
when  we  came  up  to  it,  offered  convincing  proof  of 
long  desertion.  She  was  an  eighteen-foot  whaleboat 
of  the  ordinary  type,  equipped  with  oars  and  thole-pins. 
Two  or  three  quarter-casks  lay  on  the  bilge  amidships, 
one  of  which  must  have  been  broached,  and  now  stank 
horribly;  and  these,  upon  examination,  proved  to  bear 
the  same  New  Zealand  brand  as  the  beef  on  board  the 
wreck. 

"Well,  here's  the  boat,"  said  I.  "Here's  one  of 
your  difficulties  cleared  away." 

"  H'm, "  said  he.  There  was  a  little  water  in  the  bilge, 
and  here  he  stooped  and  tasted  it. 

"  Fresh,"  he  said.     "  Only  rain-water." 

"  You  don't  object  to  that  ?  "  I  asked. 

"No,"  said  he. 

"Well,  then,  what  ails  you  ?"  I  cried. 

"In  plain  United  States,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  returned, 
*'  a  whaleboat,  five  ash  sweeps,  and  a  barrel  of  stinking 
pork." 

"Or,  in  other  words,  the  whole  thing?"  I  com- 
mented. 

"Well,  it's  this  way,"  he  condescended  to  explain. 
251 


THE   WRECKER 

"  I've  no  use  for  a  fourth  boat  at  all;  but  a  boat  of  this 
model  tops  the  business.  I  don't  say  the  type's  not 
common  in  these  waters;  it's  as  common  as  dirt;  the 
traders  carry  them  for  surf-boats.  But  the  Flying  Scud  ? 
a  deep-water  tramp,  who  was  lime-juicing  around  be- 
tween big  ports,  Calcutta  and  Rangoon  and  'Frisco  and 
the  Canton  River?    No;  I  don't  see  it." 

We  were  leaning  over  the  gunwale  of  the  boat  as  we 
spoke.  The  captain  stood  nearest  the  bow,  and  he  was 
idly  playing  with  the  trailing  painter,  when  a  thought 
arrested  him.  He  hauled  the  line  in  hand  over  hand, 
and  stared,  and  remained  staring,  at  the  end. 

"  Anything  wrong  with  it?"  I  asked. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Dodd,"  said  he,  in  a  queer  voice, 
"this  painter's  been  cut?  A  sailor  always  seizes  a 
rope's  end,  but  this  is  sliced  short  off  with  the  cold 
steel.  This  won't  do  at  all  for  the  men,"  he  added. 
"Just  stand  by  till  I  fix  it  up  more  natural." 

"Any  guess  what  it  all  means  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Well,  it  means  one  thing,"  said  he.  "It  means 
Trent  was  a  liar.  I  guess  the  story  of  the  Flying  Scud 
was  a  sight  more  picturesque  than  he  gave  out." 

Half  an  hour  later,  the  whaleboat  was  lying  astern  of 
the  Norab  Creina ;  and  Nares  and  I  sought  our  bunks, 
silent  and  half  bewildered  by  our  late  discoveries. 


352 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   CABIN    OF   THE    "  FLYING   SCUD  " 

The  sun  of  the  morrow  had  not  cleared  the  morning 
bank:  the  lake  of  the  lagoon,  the  islets,  and  the  wall  of 
breakers  now  beginning  to  subside,  still  lay  clearly  pic- 
tured in  the  flushed  obscurity  of  early  day,  when  we 
stepped  again  upon  the  deck  of  the  Flying  Scud :  Nares, 
myself,  the  mate,  two  of  the  hands,  and  one  dozen 
bright,  virgin  axes,  in  war  against  that  massive  struc- 
ture. I  think  we  all  drew  pleasurable  breath ;  so  pro- 
found in  man  is  the  instinct  of  destruction,  so  engaging 
is  the  interest  of  the  chase.  For  we  were  now  about  to 
taste,  in  a  supreme  degree,  the  double  joys  of  demolish- 
ing a  toy  and  playing  "  Hide  the  handkerchief" :  sports 
from  which  we  had  all  perhaps  desisted  since  the  days 
of  infancy.  And  the  toy  we  were  to  burst  in  pieces  was 
a  deep-sea  ship ;  and  the  hidden  good  for  which  we  were 
to  hunt  was  a  prodigious  fortune. 

The  decks  were  washed  down,  the  main  hatch  re- 
moved, and  a  gun-tackle  purchase  rigged,  before  the 
boat  arrived  with  breakfast.  I  had  grown  so  suspicious 
of  the  wreck,  that  it  was  a  positive  relief  to  me  to  look 
down  into  the  hold,  and  see  it  full,  or  nearly  full,  of  un- 
deniable rice  packed  in  the  Chinese  fashion  in  boluses 
of  matting.      Breakfast  over,  Johnson  and  the  hands 

253 


THE  WRECKER 

turned  to  upon  the  cargo;  while  Nares  and  I,  having 
smashed  open  the  skylight  and  rigged  up  a  windsail  on 
deck,  began  the  work  of  rummaging  the  cabins. 

I  must  not  be  expected  to  describe  our  first  day's 
work,  or  (for  that  matter)  any  of  the  rest,  in  order  and 
detail  as  it  occurred.  Such  particularity  might  have  been 
possible  for  several  officers  and  a  draft  of  men  from  a 
ship  of  war,  accompanied  by  an  experienced  secretary 
with  a  knowledge  of  shorthand.  For  two  plain  human 
beings,  unaccustomed  to  the  use  of  the  broad-axe  and 
consumed  with  an  impatient  greed  of  the  result,  the 
whole  business  melts,  in  the  retrospect,  into  a  night- 
mare of  exertion,  heat,  hurry,  and  bewilderment;  sweat 
pouring  from  the  face  like  rain,  the  scurry  of  rats,  the 
choking  exhalations  of  the  bilge,  and  the  throbs  and 
splinterings  of  the  toiling  axes.  I  shall  content  myself 
with  giving  the  cream  of  our  discoveries  in  a  logical 
rather  than  a  temporal  order;  though  the  two  indeed 
practically  coincided,  and  we  had  finished  our  explo- 
ration of  the  cabin,  before  we  could  be  certain  of  the 
nature  of  the  cargo. 

Nares  and  I  began  operations  by  tossing  up  pell-mell 
through  the  companion,  and  piling  in  a  squalid  heap 
about  the  wheel,  all  clothes,  personal  effects,  the  crock- 
ery, the  carpet,  stale  victuals,  tins  of  meat,  and  in  a 
word,  all  movables  from  the  main  cabin.  Thence,  we 
transferred  our  attention  to  the  captain's  quarters  on 
the  starboard  side.  Using  the  blankets  for  a  basket, 
we  sent  up  the  books,  instruments,  and  clothes  to  swell 
our  growing  midden  on  the  deck;  and  then  Nares,  go- 
ing on  hands  and  knees,  began  to  forage  underneath 
the  bed.     Box  after  box  of  Manilla  cigars  rewarded  his 

254 


THE  CABIN   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

search.  I  took  occasion  to  smash  some  of  these  boxes 
open,  and  even  to  guillotine  the  bundles  of  cigars;  but 
quite  in  vain  —  no  secret  cache  of  opium  encouraged 
me  to  continue. 

"  I  guess  I've  got  hold  of  the  dicky  now !  "  exclaimed 
Nares,  and  turning  round  from  my  perquisitions,  I  found 
he  had  drawn  forth  a  heavy  iron  box,  secured  to  the 
bulkhead  by  chain  and  padlock.  On  this  he  was  now 
gazing,  not  with  the  triumph  that  instantly  inflamed  my 
own  bosom,  but  with  a  somewhat  foolish  appearance  of 
surprise. 

"By  George,  we  have  it  now!"  I  cried,  and  would 
have  shaken  hands  with  my  companion;  but  he  did 
not  see,  or  would  not  accept,  the  salutation. 

"Let's  see  what's  in  it  first,"  he  remarked,  dryly. 
And  he  adjusted  the  box  upon  its  side,  and  with  some 
blows  of  an  axe  burst  the  lock  open.  I  threw  myself 
beside  him,  as  he  replaced  the  box  on  its  bottom  and 
removed  the  lid.  I  cannot  tell  what  I  expected;  a 
million's  worth  of  diamonds  might  perhaps  have  pleased 
me;  my  cheeks  burned,  my  heart  throbbed  to  bursting; 
and  Io!  there  was  disclosed  but  a  trayful  of  papers, 
neatly  taped,  and  a  cheque-book  of  the  customary  pat- 
tern. I  made  a  snatch  at  the  tray  to  see  what  was  be- 
neath; but  the  captain's  hand  fell  on  mine,  heavy  and 
hard. 

"Now,  boss!  "  he  cried,  not  unkindly,  "is  this  to  be 
run  shipshape  ?  or  is  it  a  Dutch  grab-racket  ?  " 

And  he  proceeded  to  untie  and  run  over  the  contents 
of  the  papers,  with  a  serious  face  and  what  seemed  an 
ostentation  of  delay.  Me  and  my  impatience  it  would 
appear  he  had  forgotten ;  for  when  he  was  quite  done, 

255 


THE   WRECKER 

he  sat  awhile  thinking,  whistled  a  bar  or  two,  refolded 
the  papers,  tied  them  up  again ;  and  then,  and  not  be- 
fore, deliberately  raised  the  tray. 

I  saw  a  cigar-box,  tied  with  a  piece  of  fishing-line,  and 
four  fat  canvas-bags.  Nares  whipped  out  his  knife,  cut 
the  line,  and  opened  the  box.  It  was  about  half  full  of 
sovereigns. 

"  And  the  bags  ?  "   I  whispered. 

The  captain  ripped  them  open  one  by  one,  and  a 
flood  of  mixed  silver  coin  burst  forth  and  rattled  in  the 
rusty  bottom  of  the  box.  Without  a  word,  he  set  to 
work  to  count  the  gold. 

"What  is  this?"  I  asked. 

"  It's  the  ship's  money,"  he  returned,  doggedly  con- 
tinuing his  work. 

"The  ship's  money  ? "  I  repeated.  "That's  the  money 
Trent  tramped  and  traded  with  ?  And  there's  his 
cheque-book  to  draw  upon  his  owners  ?  And  he  has 
left  it  ?  " 

"  I  guess  he  has,"  said  Nares,  austerely,  jotting  down 
a  note  of  the  gold ;  and  I  was  abashed  into  silence  till 
his  task  should  be  completed. 

It  came,  I  think,  to  three  hundred  and  seventy-eight 
pounds  sterling;  some  nineteen  pounds  of  it  in  silver: 
all  of  which  we  turned  again  into  the  chest. 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  I  asked. 

"Mr.  Dodd,"  he  replied,  "you  see  something  of  the 
rumness  of  this  job,  but  not  the  whole.  The  specie 
bothers  you,  but  what  gets  me  is  the  papers.  Are  you 
aware  that  the  master  of  a  ship  has  charge  of  all  the 
cash  in  hand,  pays  the  men  advances,  receives  freight 
and  passage  money,  and  runs  up  bills  in  every  port  > 

2$6 


THE   CABIN    OF   THE .  "  FLYING   SCUD'1 

All  this  he  does  as  the  owner's  confidential  agent,  and 
his  integrity  is  proved  by  his  receipted  bills.  I  tell  you, 
the  captain  of  a  ship  is  more  likely  to  forget  his  pants 
than  these  bills  which  guarantee  his  character.  I've 
known  men  drown  to  save  them:  bad  men,  too;  but 
this  is  the  shipmaster's  honour.  And  here  this  Captain 
Trent  —  not  hurried,  not  threatened  with  anything  but 
a  free  passage  in  a  British  man-of-war — has  left  them 
all  behind !  I  don't  want  to  express  myself  too  strongly , 
because  the  facts  appear  against  me,  but  the  thing  is 
impossible." 

Dinner  came  to  us  not  long  after,  and  we  ate  it  on 
deck,  in  a  grim  silence,  each  privately  racking  his  brain 
for  some  solution  of  the  mysteries.  I  was  indeed  so 
swallowed  up  in  these  considerations,  that  the  wreck, 
the  lagoon,  the  islets,  and  the  strident  sea-fowl,  the 
strong  sun  then  beating  on  my  head,  and  even  the 
gloomy  countenance  of  the  captain  at  my  elbow,  all 
vanished  from  the  field  of  consciousness.  My  mind  was 
a  blackboard,  on  which  I  scrawled  and  blotted  out  hy- 
potheses ;  comparing  each  with  the  pictorial  records  in 
my  memory :  cyphering  with  pictures.  In  the  course  of 
this  tense  mental  exercise  I  recalled  and  studied  the 
faces  of  one  memorial  masterpiece,  the  scene  of  the 
saloon ;  and  here  I  found  myself,  on  a  sudden,  looking 
in  the  eyes  of  the  Kanaka. 

"There's  one  thing  I  can  put  beyond  doubt,  at  all 
events,"  I  cried,  relinquishing  my  dinner  and  getting 
briskly  afoot.  "There  was  that  Kanaka  I  saw  in  the 
bar  with  Captain  Trent,  the  fellow  the  newspapers  and 
ship's  articles  made  out  to  be  a  Chinaman.  I  mean  to 
rout  his  quarters  out  and  settle  that." 

357 


THE  WRECKER 

"  All  right,"  said  Nares.  "I'll  lazy  off  a  bit  longer, 
Mr.  Dodd;  I  feel  pretty  rocky  and  mean." 

We  had  thoroughly  cleared  out  the  three  after-com- 
partments of  the  ship :  all  the  stuff  from  the  main  cabin 
and  the  mate's  and  captain's  quarters  lay  piled  about 
the  wheel;  but  in  the  forward  stateroom  with  the  two 
bunks,  where  Nares  had  said  the  mate  and  cook  most 
likely  berthed,  we  had  as  yet  done  nothing.  Thither  I 
went ;  it  was  very  bare ;  a  few  photographs  were  tacked 
on  the  bulkhead,  one  of  them  indecent;  a  single  chest 
stood  open,  and  like  all  we  had  yet  found,  it  had  been 
partly  rifled.  An  armful  of  two-shilling  novels  proved 
to  me  beyond  a  doubt  it  was  a  European's:  no  China- 
man would  have  possessed  any,  and  the  most  literate 
Kanaka  conceivable  in  a  ship's  galley  was  not  likely 
to  have  gone  beyond  one.  It  was  plain,  then,  that 
the  cook  had  not  berthed  aft,  and  I  must  look  else- 
where. 

The  men  had  stamped  down  the  nests  and  driven  the 
birds  from  the  galley,  so  that  I  could  now  enter  without 
contest.  One  door  had  been  already  blocked  with  rice; 
the  place  was  in  part  darkness,  full  of  a  foul  stale  smell 
and  a  cloud  of  nasty  flies ;  it  had  been  left,  besides,  in 
some  disorder,  or  else  the  birds,  during  their  time  of 
tenancy,  had  knocked  the  things  about;  and  the  floor, 
like  the  deck  before  we  washed  it,  was  spread  with 
pasty  filth.  Against  the  wall,  in  the  far  corner,  I  found 
a  handsome  chest  of  camphor  wood  bound  with  brass, 
such  as  Chinamen  and  sailors  love,  and  indeed  all  of 
mankind  that  plies  in  the  Pacific.  From  its  outside  view 
I  could  thus  make  no  deduction;  and  strange  to  say, 
the  interior  was  concealed.     All  the  other  chests,  as  I 

258 


THE   CABIN   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD'; 

have  said  already,  we  had  found  gaping  open  and  their 
contents  scattered  abroad ;  the  same  remark  we  found 
to  apply  afterwards  in  the  quarters  of  the  seamen ;  only 
this  camphor-wood  chest,  a  singular  exception,  was 
both  closed  and  locked. 

I  took  an  axe  to  it,  readily  forced  the  paltry  Chinese 
fastening,  and,  like  a  custom-house  officer,  plunged  my 
hands  among  the  contents.  For  some  while  I  groped 
among  linen  and  cotton.  Then  my  teeth  were  set  on 
edge  with  silk,  of  which  I  drew  forth  several  strips  cov- 
ered with  mysterious  characters.  And  these  settled  the 
business,  for  I  recognised  them  as  a  kind  of  bed-hang- 
ing popular  with  the  commoner  class  of  the  Chinese. 
Nor  were  farther  evidences  wanting,  such  as  night- 
clothes  of  an  extraordinary  design,  a  three-stringed 
Chinese  fiddle,  a  silk  handkerchief  full  of  roots  and 
herbs,  and  a  neat  apparatus  for  smoking  opium  with  a 
liberal  provision  of  the  drug.  Plainly,  then,  the  cook 
had  been  a  Chinaman ;  and  if  so,  who  was  Jos.  Amalu  ? 
Or  had  Jos.  stolen  the  chest  before  he  proceeded  to  ship 
under  a  false  name  and  domicile  ?  It  was  possible,  as 
anything  was  possible  in  such  a  welter;  but  regarded 
as  a  solution,  it  only  led  and  left  me  deeper  in  the  bog. 
For  why  should  this  chest  have  been  deserted  and  neg- 
lected, when  the  others  were  rummaged  or  removed  ? 
and  where  had  Jos.  come  by  that  second  chest,  with 
which  (according  to  the  clerk  at  the  What  Cheer)  he 
had  started  for  Honolulu  ? 

"And  how  have  you  fared?"  inquired  the  captain, 
whom  I  found  luxuriously  reclining  in  our  mound  of 
litter.  And  the  accent  on  the  pronoun,  the  heightened 
colour  of  the  speaker's  face,  and  the  contained  excite- 

259 


THE  WRECKER 

merit  in  his  tones,  advertised  me  at  once  that  I  had  not 
been  alone  to  make  discoveries. 

"I  have  found  a  Chinaman's  chest  in  the  galley," 
said  I,  "and  John  (if  there  was  any  John)  was  not  so 
much  as  at  the  pains  to  take  his  opium." 

Nares  seemed  to  take  it  mighty  quietly.  "That  so  ?  " 
said  he.  ' '  Now,  cast  your  eyes  on  that  and  own  you're 
beaten !  "  And  with  a  formidable  clap  of  his  open  hand, 
he  flattened  out  before  me,  on  the  deck,  a  pair  of  news- 
papers. 

I  gazed  upon  them  dully,  being  in  no  mood  for  fresh 
discoveries. 

"  Look  at  them,  Mr.  Dodd,"  cried  the  captain,  sharply. 
*'  Can't  you  look  at  them  ?  "  And  he  ran  a  dirty  thumb 
along  the  title.  "  "Sydney  Morning  Herald,  November 
26th,'  can't  you  make  that  out?"  he  cried,  with  rising 
energy.  "And  don't  you  know,  sir,  that  not  thirteen 
days  after  this  paper  appeared  in  New  South  Pole,  this 
ship  we're  standing  in  heaved  her  blessed  anchors  out 
of  China  ?  How  did  the  Sydney  Morning  Herald  get  to 
Hong  Kong  in  thirteen  days  ?  Trent  made  no  land,  he 
spoke  no  ship,  till  he  got  here.  Then  he  either  got  it 
here  or  in  Hong  Kong.  I  give  you  your  choice,  my 
son ! "  he  cried,  and  fell  back  among  the  clothes  like  a 
man  weary  of  life. 

"Where  did  you  find  them?"  I  asked.  "In  that 
black  bag?" 

"Guess  so,"  he  said.  "You  needn't  fool  with  it. 
There's  nothing  else  but  a  lead-pencil  and  a  kind  of 
worked-out  knife." 

1  looked  in  the  bag,  however,  and  was  well  rewarded. 

"  Every  man  to  his  trade,  captain,"  said  I.  "  You're 
260 


THE   CABIN    OF   THE    "  FLYING   SCUD" 

a  sailor,  and  you've  given  me  plenty  of  points;  but  I 
am  an  artist,  and  allow  me  to  inform  you  this  is  quite 
as  strange  as  all  the  rest.  The  knife  is  a  palette  knife ; 
the  pencil,  a  Windsor  and  Newton,  and  a  B  B  B  at  that. 
A  palette  knife  and  a  B  B  B  on  a  tramp  brig!  It's  against 
the  laws  of  nature." 

"  It  would  sicken  a  dog,  wouldn't  it  ?  "  said  Nares. 

"Yes,"  I  continued,  "it's  been  used  by  an  artist,  too: 
see  how  it's  sharpened  —  not  for  writing —  no  man  could 
write  with  that.  An  artist,  and  straight  from  Sydney  ? 
How  can  he  come  in  ?  " 

"O,  that's  natural  enough,"  sneered  Nares.  "They 
cabled  him  to  come  up  and  illustrate  this  dime  novel." 

We  fell  awhile  silent. 

"  Captain,"  I  said  at  last,  "  there  is  something  deuced 
underhand  about  this  brig.  You  tell  me  you've  been  to 
sea  a  good  part  of  your  life.  You  must  have  seen  shady 
things  done  on  ships,  and  heard  of  more.  Well,  what 
is  this  ?  is  it  insurance  ?  is  it  piracy  ?  what  is  it  about  ? 
what  can  it  be  for  ?  ' ' 

"Mr.  Dodd,"  returned  Nares,  "you're  right  about  me 
having  been  to  sea  the  bigger  part  of  my  life.  And 
you're  right  again,  when  you  think  I  know  a  good  many 
ways  in  which  a  dishonest  captain  mayn't  be  on  the 
square,  nor  do  exactly  the  right  thing  by  his  owners,  and 
altogether  be  just  a  little  too  smart  by  ninety-nine  and 
three-quarters.  There's  a  good  many  ways,  but  not  so 
many  as  you'd  think ;  and  not  one  that  has  any  mortal 
thing  to  do  with  Trent.  Trent  and  his  whole  racket  has 
got  to  do  with  nothing — that's  the  bed-rock  fact;  there's 
no  sense  to  it,  and  no  use  in  it,  and  no  story  to  it :  it's 
a  beastly  dream.     And  don't  you  run  away  with  that 

261 


THE  WRECKER 

notion  that  landsmen  take  about  ships.  A  society  ac- 
tress don't  go  around  more  publicly  than  what  a  ship 
does,  nor  is  more  interviewed,  nor  more  humbugged, 
nor  more  run  after  by  all  sorts  of  little  fussinesses  in  brass 
buttons.  And  more  than  an  actress,  a  ship  has  a  deal  to 
lose;  she's  capital,  and  the  actress  only  character  —  if 
she's  that.  The  ports  of  the  world  are  thick  with  people 
ready  to  kick  a  captain  into  the  penitentiary,  if  he's  not 
as  bright  as  a  dollar  and  as  honest  as  the  morning  star; 
and  what  with  Lloyd  keeping  watch  and  watch  in  every 
corner  of  the  three  oceans,  and  the  insurance  leeches, 
and  the  consuls,  and  the  customs  bugs,  and  the  medicos, 
you  can  only  get  the  idea  by  thinking  of  a  landsman 
watched  by  a  hundred  and  fifty  detectives,  or  a  stranger 
in  a  village  Down  East." 

"Well,  but  at  sea?"  I  said. 

1 '  You  make  me  tired, "  retorted  the  captain.  ' '  What's 
the  use — at  sea?  Everything's  got  to  come  to  bear- 
ings at  some  port,  hasn't  it  ?  You  can't  stop  at  sea  for- 
ever, can  you  ?  —  No;  the  Flying  Scud  is  rubbish;  if  it 
meant  anything,  it  would  have  to  mean  something  so 
almighty  intricate  that  James  G.  Blaine  hasn't  got  the 
brains  to  engineer  it;  and  I  vote  for  more  axeing,  pio- 
neering, and  opening  up  the  resources  of  this  phe- 
nomenal brig,  and  less  general  fuss,"  he  added,  aris- 
ing. "The  dime-museum  symptoms  will  drop  in  of 
themselves,  I  guess,  to  keep  us  cheery." 

But  it  appeared  we  were  at  the  end  of  discoveries  for 
the  day ;  and  we  left  the  brig  about  sundown,  without 
being  further  puzzled  or  further  enlightened.  The  best 
of  the  cabin  spoils  — books,  instruments,  papers,  silks, 
and  curiosities  —  we  carried  along  with  us  in  a  blanket, 

262 


THE  CABIN   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

however,  to  divert  the  evening  hours;  and  when  supper 
was  over,  and  the  table  cleared,  and  Johnson  set  down 
to  a  dreary  game  of  cribbage  between  his  right  hand  and 
his  left,  the  captain  and  I  turned  out  our  blanket  on  the 
floor,  and  sat  side  by  side  to  examine  and  appraise  the 
spoils. 

The  books  were  the  first  to  engage  our  notice.  These 
were  rather  numerous  (as  Nares  contemptuously  put  it) 
"for  a  lime-juicer."  Scorn  of  the  British  mercantile 
marine  glows  in  the  breast  of  every  Yankee  merchant 
captain;  as  the  scorn  is  not  reciprocated,  I  can  only  sup- 
pose it  justified  in  fact;  and  certainly  the  old  country 
mariner  appears  of  a  less  studious  disposition.  The 
more  credit  to  the  officers  of  the  Flying  Scud,  who  had 
quite  a  library,  both  literary  and  professional.  There 
were  Findlay's  five  directories  of  the  world  —  all  broken- 
backed,  as  is  usual  with  Findlay,  and  all  marked  and 
scribbled  over  with  corrections  and  additions  —  several 
books  of  navigation,  a  signal  code,  and  an  Admiralty 
book  of  a  sort  of  orange  hue,  called  Islands  of  the  East- 
em  Pacific  Ocean,  Vol.  III.,  which  appeared  from  its 
imprint  to  be  the  latest  authority,  and  showed  marks  of 
frequent  consultation  in  the  passages  about  the  French 
Frigate  Shoals,  the  Harman,  Cure,  Pearl,  and  Hermes 
reefs,  Lisiansky  Island,  Ocean  Island,  and  the  place 
where  we  then  lay  —  Brooks  or  Midway.  A  volume  of 
Macaulay's  Essays  and  a  shilling  Shakespeare  led  the 
van  of  the  belles  lettres ;  the  rest  were  novels :  several 
Miss  Braddons  —  of  course,  Aurora  Floyd,  which  has 
penetrated  to  every  isle  of  the  Pacific,  a  good  many 
cheap  detective  books,  Rob  Roy,  Auerbach's  Auf  der 
Hdhe  in  the  German,  and  a  prize  temperance  story,  pil- 

263 


THE  WRECKER 

Jaged  (to  judge  by  the  stamp)  from  an  Anglo-Indian 
circulating  library. 

"The  admiralty  man  gives  a  fine  picture  of  our 
island,"  remarked  Nares,  who  had  turned  up  Midway 
Island.  "  He  draws  the  dreariness  rather  mild,  but  you 
can  make  out  he  knows  the  place." 

"Captain,"  I  cried,  "you've  struck  another  point  in 
this  mad  business.  See  here,"  I  went  on  eagerly, 
drawing  from  my  pocket  a  crumpled  fragment  of  the 
Daily  Occidental  which  I  had  inherited  from  Jim: 
"'misled  by  Hoyt's  Pacific  Directory'?  Where's 
Hoyt?" 

"Let's  look  into  that,"  said  Nares.  "  I  got  that  book 
on  purpose  for  this  cruise."  Therewith  he  fetched  it 
from  the  shelf  in  his  berth,  turned  to  Midway  Island, 
and  read  the  account  aloud.  It  stated  with  precision 
that  the  Pacific  Mail  Company  were  about  to  form  a 
depot  there,  in  preference  to  Honolulu,  and  that  they 
had  already  a  station  on  the  island. 

"I  wonder  who  gives  these  Directory  men  their  in- 
formation, "  Nares  reflected.  ' '  Nobody  can  blame  Trent 
after  that.  I  never  got  in  company  with  squarer  lying; 
it  reminds  a  man  of  a  presidential  campaign." 

"All  very  well,"  said  I.  "That's  your  Hoyt,  and  a 
fine,  tall  copy.  But  what  I  want  to  know  is,  where  is 
Trent's  Hoyt  ?  " 

"Took  it  with  him,"  chuckled  Nares.  "  He  had  left 
everything  else,  bills  and  money  and  all  the  rest;  he 
was  bound  to  take  something,  or  it  would  have  aroused 
attention  on  the  Tempest:  'Happy  thought,'  says  he; 
'let's  take  Hoyt.' " 

"  And  has  it  not  occurred  to  you,"  I  went  on,  "  that 
264 


THE  CABIN   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

all  the  Hoyts  in  creation  couldn't  have  misled  Trent, 
since  he  had  in  his  hand  that  red  admiralty  book,  an 
official  publication,  later  in  date,  and  particularly  full  on 
Midway  Island  ?  " 

"That's  a  fact!"  cried  Nares;  "and  I  bet  the  first 
Hoyt  he  ever  saw  was  out  of  the  mercantile  library  in 
San  Francisco.  Looks  as  if  he'd  brought  her  here  on 
purpose,  don't  it  ?  But  then  that's  inconsistent  with 
the  steam-crusher  of  the  sale.  That's  the  trouble  with 
this  brig  racket ;  any  one  can  make  half'a  dozen  theories 
for  sixty  or  seventy  per  cent,  of  it;  but  when  they're 
made,  there's  always  a  fathom  or  two  of  slack  hanging 
out  of  the  other  end." 

I  believe  our  attention  fell  next  on  the  papers,  of 
which  we  had  altogether  a  considerable  bulk.  I  had 
hoped  to  find  among  these  matter  for  a  full-length  char- 
acter of  Captain  Trent,  but  here  I  was  doomed,  on  the 
whole,  to  disappointment.  We  could  make  out  he  was 
an  orderly  man,  for  all  his  bills  were  docketed  and  pre- 
served. That  he  was  convivial,  and  inclined  to  be  frugal 
even  in  conviviality,  several  documents  proclaimed. 
Such  letters  as  we  found  were,  with  one  exception, 
arid  notes  from  tradesmen.  The  exception,  signed 
Hannah  Trent,  was  a  somewhat  fervid  appeal  for  a 
loan.  "You  know  what  misfortunes  I  have  had  to 
bear,"  wrote  Hannah,  "and  how  much  I  am  disap- 
pointed in  George.  The  landlady  appeared  a  true  friend 
when  I  first  came  here,  and  I  thought  her  a  perfect  lady. 
But  she  has  come  out  since  then  in  her  true  colours; 
and  if  you  will  not  be  softened  by  this  last  appeal,  I 
can't  think  what  is  to  become  of  your  affectionate  —  " 
and  then  the  signature.     This  document  was  without 

265 


THE  WRECKER 

place  or  date,  and  a  voice  told  me  that  it  had  gone  like- 
wise without  answer.  On  the  whole,  there  were  few 
letters  anywhere  in  the  ship ;  but  we  found  one  before 
we  were  finished,  in  a  seaman's  chest,  of  which  I  must 
transcribe  some  sentences.  It  was  dated  from  some 
place  on  the  Clyde.  "My  dearist  son,"  it  ran,  "this  is 
to  tell  you  your  dearist  father  passed  away,  Jan  twelft, 
in  the  peace  of  the  Lord.  He  had  your  photo  and  dear 
David's  lade  upon  his  bed,  made  me  sit  by  him.  Let's 
be  a'  thegither,  he  said,  and  gave  you  all  his  blessing. 
O  my  dear  laddie,  why  were  nae  you  and  Davie  here  ? 
He  would  have  had  a  happier  passage.  He  spok  of 
both  of  ye  all  night  most  beautiful,  and  how  ye  used  to 
stravaig  on  the  Saturday  afternoons,  and  of  atild  Kelvin- 
side.  Sooth  the  tune  to  me,  he  said,  though  it  was  the 
Sabbath,  and  I  had  to  sooth  him  Kelvin  Grove,  and  he 
looked  at  his  fiddle,  the  dear  man.  I  cannae  bear  the 
sight  of  it,  he'll  never  play  it  main  O  my  lamb,  come 
home  to  me,  I'm  all  by  my  lane  now."  The  rest  was 
in  a  religious  vein  and  quite  conventional.  I  have  never 
seen  any  one  more  put  out  than  Nares,  when  I  handed 
him  this  letter;  he  had  read  but  a  few  words,  before  he 
cast  it  down ;  it  was  perhaps  a  minute  ere  he  picked  it 
up  again,  and  the  performance  was  repeated  the  third 
time  before  he  reached  the  end. 

"It's  touching,  isn't  it?"  said  I. 

For  all  answer,  Nares  exploded  in  a  brutal  oath ;  and 
it  was  some  half  an  hour  later  that  he  vouchsafed  an 
explanation.  "I'll  tell  you  what  broke  me  up  about 
that  letter,"  said  he.  "My  old  man  played  the  fiddle, 
played  it  all  out  of  tune:  one  of  the  things  he  played 
was  Martyrdom,  I  remember — it  was  all  martyrdom  to 

266 


THE  CABIN   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

me.  He  was  a  pig  of  a  father,  and  I  was  a  pig  of  a  son ; 
but  it  sort  of  came  over  me  I  would  like  to  hear  that 
fiddle  squeak  again.  Natural, "  he  added ; ' '  I  guess  we're 
all  beasts." 

"All  sons  are,  I  guess,"  said  I.  "I  have  the  same 
trouble  on  my  conscience:  we  can  shake  hands  on  that" 
Which  (oddly  enough,  perhaps)  we  did. 

Amongst  the  papers  we  found  a  considerable  sprink- 
ling of  photographs;  for  the  most  part  either  of  very 
debonair-looking  young  ladies  or  old  women  of  the 
lodging-house  persuasion.  But  one  among  them  was 
the  means  of  our  crowning  discovery. 

1 '  They're  not  pretty,  are  they,  Mr.  Dodd  ?  "  said  Nares, 
as  he  passed  it  over. 

"Who?"  I  asked,  mechanically  taking  the  card  (it 
was  a  quarter-plate)  in  hand,  and  smothering  a  yawn; 
for  the  hour  was  late,  the  day  had  been  laborious,  and 
I  was  wearying  for  bed. 

"Trent  and  Company,"  said  he.  "That's  a  historic 
picture  of  the  gang." 

I  held  it  to  the  light,  my  curiosity  at  a  low  ebb :  I  had 
seen  Captain  Trent  once,  and  had  no  delight  in  viewing 
him  again.  It  was  a  photograph  of  the  deck  of  the  brig, 
taken  from  forward:  all  in  apple-pie  order;  the  hands 
gathered  in  the  waist,  the  officers  on  the  poop.  At  the 
foot  of  the  card  was  written,  "  Brig  Flying  Scud,  Ran- 
goon," and  a  date;  and  above  or  below  each  individual 
figure  the  name  had  been  carefully  noted. 

As  I  continued  to  gaze,  a  shock  went  through  me; 
the  dimness  of  sleep  and  fatigue  lifted  from  my  eyes,  as 
fog  lifts  in  the  channel ;  and  I  beheld  with  startled  clear- 
ness, the  photographic  presentment  of  a  crowd  of  stran- 

267 


THE  WRECKER 

gers.  "I.  Trent,  Master  "  at  the  top  of  the  card  directed 
me  to  a  smallish,  weazened  man,  with  bushy  eyebrows 
and  full  white  beard,  dressed  in  a  frock  coat  and  white 
trousers;  a  flower  stuck  in  his  button-hole,  his  bearded 
chin  set  forward,  his  mouth  clenched  with  habitual  de- 
termination. There  was  not  much  of  the  sailor  in  his 
looks,  but  plenty  of  the  martinet:  a  dry,  precise  man, 
who  might  pass  for  a  preacher  in  some  rigid  sect;  and 
whatever  he  was,  not  the  Captain  Trent  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. The  men,  too,  were  all  new  to  me:  the  cook, 
an  unmistakable  Chinaman,  in  his  characteristic  dress, 
standing  apart  on  the  poop  steps.  But  perhaps  I  turned 
on  the  whole  with  the  greatest  curiosity  to  the  figure 
labelled  "  E.  Goddedaal,  ist  off."  He  whom  I  had 
never  seen,  he  might  be  the  identical;  he  might  be 
the  clue  and  spring  of  all  this  mystery ;  and  I  scanned 
his  features  with  the  eye  of  a  detective.  He  was  of 
great  stature,  seemingly  blond  as  a  viking,  his  hair 
clustering  round  his  head  in  frowsy  curls,  and  two 
enormous  whiskers,  like  the  tusks  of  some  strange 
animal,  jutting  from  his  cheeks.  With  these  virile  ap- 
pendages and  the  defiant  attitude  in  which  he  stood, 
the  expression  of  his  face  only  imperfectly  harmonised. 
It  was  wild,  heroic,  and  womanish  looking;  and  I  felt 
I  was  prepared  to  hear  he  was  a  sentimentalist,  and  to 
see  him  weep. 

For  some  while  I  digested  my  discovery  in  private, 
reflecting  how  best,  and  how  with  most  of  drama,  I 
might  share  it  with  the  captain.  Then  my  sketch-book 
came  in  my  head;  and  I  fished  it  out  from  where  it  lay, 
with  other  miscellaneous  possessions,  at  the  foot  of  my 
bunk  and  turned  to  my  sketch  of  Captain  Trent  and  the 

268 


THE   CABIN   OF  THE    "FLYING   SCUD" 

survivors  of  the  British  brig  Flying  Scud  in  the  San 
Francisco  bar-room. 

"Nares,"  said  I,  "I've  told  you  how  I  first  saw  Cap- 
tain Trent  in  that  saloon  in  'Frisco  ?  how  he  came  with 
his  men,  one  of  them  a  Kanaka  with  a  canary-bird  in  a 
cage  ?  and  how  I  saw  him  afterwards  at  the  auction, 
frightened  to  death,  and  as  much  surprised  at  how  the 
figures  skipped  up  as  anybody  there  ?  Well,"  said  I, 
"there's  the  man  I  saw" — and  I  laid  the  sketch  before 
him — "there's  Trent  of  'Frisco  and  there  are  his  three 
hands.  Find  one  of  them  in  the  photograph,  and  I'll 
be  obliged." 

Nares  compared  the  two  in  silence.  "Well,"  he 
said  at  last,  "  I  call  this  rather  a  relief:  seems  to  clear 
the  horizon.  We  might  have  guessed  at  something  of 
the  kind  from  the  double  ration  of  chests  that  figured." 

"Does  it  explain  anything?"  I  asked. 

"It  would  explain  everything,"  Nares  replied,  "but 
for  the  steam-crusher.  It'll  all  tally  as  neat  as  a  patent 
puzzle,  if  you  leave  out  the  way  these  people  bid  the 
wreck  up.  And  there  we  come  to  a  stone  wall.  But 
whatever  it  is,  Mr.  Dodd,  it's  on  the  crook." 

"  And  looks  like  piracy,"  I  added. 

1 '  Looks  like  blind  hookey ! "  cried  the  captain.  ' '  No, 
don't  you  deceive  yourself;  neither  your  head  nor  mine 
is  big  enough  to  put  a  name  on  this  business." 


a*9 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  CARGO   OF   THE    "FLYING  SCUD " 

In  my  early  days  I  was  a  man,  the  most  wedded  to 
his  idols  of  my  generation.  I  was  a  dweller  under 
roofs :  the  gull  of  that  which  we  call  civilisation ;  a  su- 
perstitious votary  of  the  plastic  arts :  a  cit ;  and  a  prop 
of  restaurants.  I  had  a  comrade  in  those  days,  some- 
what of  an  outsider,  though  he  moved  in  the  company 
of  artists,  and  a  man  famous  in  our  small  world  for  gal- 
lantry, knee  breeches,  and  dry  and  pregnant  sayings. 
He,  looking  on  the  long  meals  and  waxing  bellies  of  the 
French,  whom  I  confess  I  somewhat  imitated,  branded 
me  as  "a  cultivator  of  restaurant  fat."  And  I  believe 
he  had  his  finger  on  the  dangerous  spot;  I  believe,  if 
things  had  gone  smooth  with  me,  I  should  be  now 
swollen  like  a  prize-ox  in  body,  and  fallen  in  mind  to  a 
thing  perhaps  as  low  as  many  types  of  bourgeois — the 
implicit  or  exclusive  artist.  That  was  a  home  word  of 
Pinkerton's,  deserving  to  be  writ  in  letters  of  gold  on 
the  portico  of  every  school  of  art:  "What  I  can't  see  is 
why  you  should  want  to  do  nothing  else."  The  dull 
man  is  made,  not  by  the  nature,  but  by  the  degree  of 
his  immersion  in  a  single  business.  And  all  the  more 
if  that  be  sedentary,  uneventful,  and  ingloriouslv  safe. 
More  than  one  half  of  him  will  then  remain  unexercised 

270 


THE  CARGO  OF  THE  "  FLYING  SCUD" 

and  undeveloped;  the  rest  will  be  distended  and  de- 
formed by  over-nutrition,  over-cerebration,  and  the  heat 
of  rooms.  And  I  have  often  marvelled  at  the  impu- 
dence of  gentlemen,  who  describe  and  pass  judgments 
on  the  life  of  man,  in  almost  perfect  ignorance  of  all  its 
necessary  elements  and  natural  careers.  Those  who 
dwell  in  clubs  and  studios  may  paint  excellent  pictures 
or  write  enchanting  novels.  There  is  one  thing  that 
they  should  not  do :  they  should  pass  no  judgment  on 
man's  destiny,  for  it  is  a  thing  with  which  they  are  un- 
acquainted. Their  own  life  is  an  excrescence  of  the 
moment,  doomed,  in  the  vicissitude  of  history,  to  pass 
and  disappear:  the  eternal  life  of  man,  spent  under  sun 
and  rain  and  in  rude  physical  effort,  lies  upon  one  side, 
scarce  changed  since  the  beginning. 

I  would  I  could  have  carried  along  with  me  to  Midway 
Island  all  the  writers  and  the  prating  artists  of  my  time. 
Day  after  day  of  hope  deferred,  of  heat,  of  unremitting 
toil;  night  after  night  of  aching  limbs,  bruised  hands, 
and  a  mind  obscured  with  the  grateful  vacancy  of  physi- 
cal fatigue:  the  scene,  the  nature  of  my  employment; 
the  rugged  speech  and  faces  of  my  fellow-toilers,  the 
glare  of  the  day  on  deck,  the  stinking  twilight  in  the 
bilge,  the  shrill  myriads  of  the  ocean-fowl :  above  all, 
the  sense  of  our  immitigable  isolation  from  the  world 
and  from  the  current  epoch;  —  keeping  another  time, 
some  eras  old;  the  new  day  heralded  by  no  daily  paper, 
only  by  the  rising  sun ;  and  the  State,  the  churches,  the 
peopled  empires,  war,  and  the  rumours  of  war,  and  the 
voices  of  the  arts,  all  gone  silent  as  in  the  days  ere  they 
were  yet  invented.  Such  were  the  conditions  of  my 
new  experience  in  life,  of  which  (if  I  had  been  able)  I 

271 


THE   WRECKER 

would  have  had  all  my  confreres  and  contemporaries  to 
partake:  forgetting,  for  that  while,  the  orthodoxies  of 
the  moment,  and  devoted  to  a  single  and  material  pur- 
pose under  the  eye  of  heaven. 

Of  the  nature  of  our  task,  I  must  continue  to  give 
some  summary  idea.  The  forecastle  was  lumbered  with 
ship's  chandlery,  the  hold  nigh  full  of  rice,  the  lazarette 
crowded  with  the  teas  and  silks.  These  must  all  be 
dug  out;  and  that  made  but  a  fraction  of  our  task.  The 
hold  was  ceiled  throughout;  a  part,  where  perhaps  some 
delicate  cargo  was  once  stored,  had  been  lined,  in  addi- 
tion, with  inch  boards;  and  between  every  beam  there 
was  a  movable  panel  into  the  bilge.  Any  of  these,  the 
bulkheads  of  the  cabins,  the  very  timbers  of  the  hull 
itself,  might  be  the  place  of  hiding.  It  was  therefore 
necessary  to  demolish,  as  we  proceeded,  a  great  part  of 
the  ship's  inner  skin  and  fittings, and  to  auscultate  what 
remained,  like  a  doctor  sounding  for  a  lung  disease. 
Upon  the  return,  from  any  beam  or  bulkhead,  of  a  flat 
or  doubtful  sound,  we  must  up  axe  and  hew  into  the 
timber:  a  violent  and  —  from  the  amount  of  dry  rot  in 
the  wreck  —  a  mortifying  exercise.  Every  night  saw  a 
deeper  inroad  into  the  bones  of  the  Flying  Scud —  more 
beams  tapped  and  hewn  in  splinters,  more  planking 
peeled  away  and  tossed  aside  —  and  every  night  saw  us 
as  far  as  ever  from  the  end  and  object  of  our  arduous 
devastation.  In  this  perpetual  disappointment,  my 
courage  did  not  fail  me,  but  my  spirits  dwindled;  and 
Nares  himself  grew  silent  and  morose.  At  night,  when 
supper  was  done,  we  passed  an  hour  in  the  cabin,  most- 
ly without  speech:  I,  sometimes  dozing  over  a  book; 
Nares,  sullenly  but  busily  drilling  sea-shells  with  the 

272 


THE   CARGO   OF  THE    "FLYING  SCUD" 

instrument  called  a  Yankee  Fiddle.  A  stranger  might 
have  supposed  we  were  estranged ;  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
in  this  silent  comradeship  of  labour,  our  intimacy  grew. 

I  had  been  struck,  at  the  first  beginning  of  our  enter- 
prise upon  the  wreck,  to  find  the  men  so  ready  at  the 
captain's  lightest  word.  I  dare  not  say  they  liked,  but 
I  can  never  deny  that  they  admired  him  thoroughly.  A 
mild  word  from  his  mouth  was  more  valued  than  flattery 
and  half  a  dollar  from  myself;  if  he  relaxed  at  all  from 
his  habitual  attitude  of  censure,  smiling  alacrity  sur- 
rounded him;  and  I  was  led  to  think  his  theory  of 
captainship,  even  if  pushed  to  excess,  reposed  upon  some 
ground  of  reason.  But  even  terror  and  admiration  of 
the  captain  failed  us  before  the  end.  The  men  wearied 
of  the  hopeless,  unremunerative  quest  and  the  long 
strain  of  labour.  They  began  to  shirk  and  grumble. 
Retribution  fell  on  them  at  once,  and  retribution  multi- 
plied the  grumblings.  With  every  day  it  took  harder 
driving  to  keep  them  to  the  daily  drudge;  and  we,  in 
our  narrow  boundaries,  were  kept  conscious  every  mo- 
ment of  the  ill-will  of  our  assistants. 

In  spite  of  the  best  care,  the  object  of  our  search  was 
perfectly  well  known  to  all  on  board;  and  there  had 
leaked  out  besides  some  knowledge  of  those  inconsisten- 
cies that  had  so  greatly  amazed  the  captain  and  myself. 
I  could  overhear  the  men  debate  the  character  of  Captain 
Trent,  and  set  forth  competing  theories  of  where  the 
opium  was  stowed;  and  as  they  seemed  to  have  been 
eavesdropping  on  ourselves,  I  thought  little  shame  to 
prick  up  my  ears  when  I  had  the  return  chance  of  spy- 
ing upon  them,  in  this  way.  I  could  diagnose  their 
temper  and  judge  how  far  they  were  informed  upon  the 

273 


THE  WRECKER 

mystery  of  the  Flying  Scud.  It  was  after  having  thus 
overheard  some  almost  mutinous  speeches,  that  a  fortu- 
nate idea  crossed  my  mind.  At  night,  I  matured  it  in 
my  bed,  and  the  first  thing  the  next  morning,  broached 
it  to  the  captain. 

"Suppose  I  spirit  up  the  hands  a  bit,"  I  asked,  "by 
the  offer  of  a  reward  ?  " 

"  If  you  think  you're  getting  your  month's  wages  out 
of  them  the  way  it  is,  I  don't,"  was  his  reply.  "  How- 
ever, they  are  all  the  men  you've  got,  and  you're  the 
supercargo." 

This,  from  a  person  of  the  captain's  character,  might 
be  regarded  as  complete  adhesion ;  and  the  crew  were 
accordingly  called  aft.  Never  had  the  captain  worn  a 
front  more  menacing.  It  was  supposed  by  all  that  some 
misdeed  had  been  discovered,  and  some  surprising  pun- 
ishment was  to  be  announced. 

"  See  here,  you!  "  he  threw  at  them  over  his  shoulder 
as  he  walked  the  deck,  "Mr.  Dodd,  here,  is  going  to 
offer  a  reward  to  the  first  man  who  strikes  the  opium  in 
that  wreck.  There's  two  ways  of  making  a  donkey  go ; 
both  good,  I  guess :  the  one's  kicks  and  the  other's  car- 
rots. Mr.  Dodd's  going  to  try  the  carrots.  Well,  my 
sons,"  —  and  here  he  faced  the  men  for  the  first  time 
with  his  hands  behind  him — "if  that  opium's  not 
found  in  five  days,  you  can  come  to  me  for  the  kicks." 

He  nodded  to  the  present  narrator,  who  took  up  the 
tale.  "Here  is  what  I  propose,  men,"  said  I:  "I  put 
up  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  If  any  man  can  lay 
hands  on  the  stuff  right  away,  and  off  his  own  club,  he 
shall  have  the  hundred  and  fifty  down.  If  any  one  can 
put  us  on  the  scent  of  where  to  look,  he  shall  have  a 

274 


THE  CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

hundred  and  twenty-five,  and  the  balance  shall  be  for 
the  lucky  one  who  actually  picks  it  up.  We'll  call  it 
the  Pinkerton  Stakes,  captain,"  I  added,  with  a  smile. 

"Call  it  the  Grand  Combination  Sweep,  then,"  cries 
he.  "  For  I  go  you  better.  Look  here,  men,  I  make  up 
this  jack-pot  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  American 
gold  coin." 

1 '  Thank  you,  Captain  Nares, "  said  I ;  ■ '  that  was  hand- 
somely done." 

"  It  was  kindly  meant,"  he  returned. 

The  offer  was  not  made  in  vain ;  the  hands  had  scarce 
yet  realised  the  magnitude  of  the  reward,  they  had 
scarce  begun  to  buzz  aloud  in  the  extremity  of  hope 
and  wonder,  ere  the  Chinese  cook  stepped  forward  with 
gracious  gestures  and  explanatory  smiles. 

"Captain,"  he  began,  "I  serv-um  two  year  Melican 
navy;  serv-um  six  year  mail-boat  steward.  Savvy 
plenty." 

"Oho!"  cried  Nares,  "you  savvy  plenty,  do  you? 
(Beggar's  seen  this  trick  in  the  mail-boats,  I  guess.) 
Well,  why  you  no  savvy  a  little  sooner,  sonny  ?  " 

"  I  think  bimeby  make-um  reward,"  replied  the  cook, 
with  smiling  dignity. 

"Well,  you  can't  say  fairer  than  that,"  the  captain 
admitted,  "and  now  the  reward's  offered,  you'll  talk? 
Speak  up,  then.  Suppose  you  speak  true,  you  get  re- 
ward.    See?" 

"I  think  long  time,"  replied  the  Chinaman.  "See 
plenty  litty  mat  lice;  too-muchy  plenty  litty  mat  lice; 
sixty  ton,  litty  mat  lice.  I  think  all-e-time:  perhaps 
plenty  opium  plenty  litty  mat  lice  ?  " 

"Well,  Mr.  Dodd,  how  does  that  strike  you  ?  "  asked 
275 


THE  WRECKER 

the  captain.  "He  may  be  right,  he  may  be  wrong. 
He's  likely  to  be  right:  for  if  he  isn't,  where  can  the 
stuff  be  ?  On  the  other  hand,  if  he's  wrong,  we  destroy 
a  hundred  and  fifty  tons  of  good  rice  for  nothing.  It's 
a  point  to  be  considered." 

"  I  don't  hesitate,"  said  I.  "  Let's  get  to  the  bottom 
of  the  thing.  The  rice  is  nothing;  the  rice  will  neither 
make  nor  break  us." 

"That's  how  I  expected  you  to  see  it,"  returned 
Nares. 

And  we  called  the  boat  away  and  set  forth  on  our  new 
quest. 

The  hold  was  now  almost  entirely  emptied;  the  mats 
(of  which  there  went  forty  to  the  short  ton)  had  been 
stacked  on  deck,  and  now  crowded  the  ship's  waist  and 
forecastle.  It  was  our  task  to  disembowel  and  explore 
six  thousand  individual  mats,  and  incidentally  to  destroy 
a  hundred  and  fifty  tons  of  valuable  food.  Nor  were 
the  circumstances  of  the  day's  business  less  strange 
than  its  essential  nature.  Each  man  of  us,  armed  with 
a  great  knife,  attacked  the  pile  from  his  own  quarter, 
slashed  into  the  nearest  mat,  burrowed  in  it  with  his 
hands,  and  shed  forth  the  rice  upon  the  deck,  where  it 
heaped  up,  overflowed,  and  was  trodden  town,  poured 
at  last  into  the  scuppers,  and  occasionally  spouted  from 
the  vents.  About  the  wreck,  thus  transformed  into  an 
overflowing  granary,  the  sea-fowl  swarmed  in  myriads 
and  with  surprising  insolence.  The  sight  of  so  much 
food  confounded  them;  they  deafened  us  with  their 
shrill  tongues,  swooped  in  our  midst,  dashed  in  our 
faces,  and  snatched  the  grain  from  between  our  fingers. 
The  men  —  their  hands  bleeding  from  these  assaults  — 

276 


THE  CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING   SCUD" 

turned  savagely  on  the  offensive,  drove  their  knives 
into  the  birds,  drew  them  out  crimsoned,  and  turned 
again  to  dig  among  the  rice,  unmindful  of  the  gawking 
creatures  that  struggled  and  died  among  their  feet.  We 
made  a  singular  picture:  the  hovering  and  diving  birds; 
the  bodies  of  the  dead  discolouring  the  rice  with  blood; 
the  scuppers  vomiting  breadstuff;  the  men,  frenzied 
by  the  gold  hunt,  toiling,  slaying,  and  shouting  aloud : 
over  all,  the  lofty  intricacy  of  rigging  and  the  radiant 
heaven  of  the  Pacific.  Every  man  there  toiled  in  the  im- 
mediate hope  of  fifty  dollars;  and  I,  of  fifty  thousand. 
Small  wonder  if  we  waded  callously  in  blood  and  food. 

It  was  perhaps  about  ten  in  the  forenoon  when  the 
scene  was  interrupted.  Nares,  who  had  just  ripped 
open  a  fresh  mat,  drew  forth,  and  slung  at  his  feet, 
among  the  rice,  a  papered  tin  box. 

"How's  that?"  he  shouted. 

A  cry  broke  from  all  hands :  the  next  moment,  forget- 
ting their  own  disappointment,  in  that  contagious  senti- 
ment of  success,  they  gave  three  cheers  that  scared  the 
sea-birds;  and  the  next,  they  had  crowded  round  the 
captain,  and  were  jostling  together  and  groping  with 
emulous  hands  in  the  new-opened  mat.  Box  after  box 
rewarded  them,  six  in  all;  wrapped,  as  I  have  said,  in 
a  paper  envelope,  and  the  paper  printed  on,  in  Chinese 
characters. 

Nares  turned  to  me  and  shook  my  hand.  "I  began 
to  think  we  should  never  see  this  day,"  said  he.  "I  con- 
gratulate you,  Mr.  Dodd,  on  having  pulled  it  through." 

The  captain's  tones  affected  me  profoundly ;  and  when 
Johnson  and  the  men  pressed  round  me  in  turn  with 
congratulations,  the  tears  came  in  my  eyes. 

277 


THE  WRECKER 

"These  are  five-tael  boxes,  more  than  two  pounds," 
said  Nares,  weighing  one  in  his  hand.  "  Say  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  to  the  mat.  Lay  into  it,  boys! 
we'll  make  Mr.  Dodd  a  millionnaire  before  dark." 

It  was  strange  to  see  with  what  a  fury  we  fell  to. 
The  men  had  now  nothing  to  expect;  the  mere  idea  of 
great  sums  inspired  them  with  disinterested  ardour. 
Mats  were  slashed  and  disembowelled,  the  rice  flowed 
to  our  knees  in  the  ship's  waist,  the  sweat  ran  in  our 
eyes  and  blinded  us,  our  arms  ached  to  agony ;  and  yet 
our  fire  abated  not.  Dinner  came;  we  were  too  weary 
to  eat,  too  hoarse  for  conversation;  and  yet  dinner 
was  scarce  done,  before  we  were  afoot  again  and  delv- 
ing in  the  rice.  Before  nightfall  not  a  mat  was  unex- 
plored, and  we  were  face  to  face  with  the  astonishing 
result. 

For  of  all  the  inexplicable  things  in  the  story  of  the 
Flying  Scud,  here  was  the  most  inexplicable.  Out  of 
the  six  thousand  mats,  only  twenty  were  found  to  have 
been  sugared ;  in  each  we  found  the  same  amount,  about 
twelve  pounds  of  drug;  making  a  grand  total  of  two 
hundred  and  forty  pounds.  By  the  last  San  Francisco 
quotation,  opium  was  selling  for  a  fraction  over  twenty 
dollars  a  pound ;  but  it  had  been  known  not  long  before 
to  bring  as  much  as  forty  in  Honolulu,  where  it  was 
contraband. 

Taking,  then,  this  high  Honolulu  figure,  the  value  of 
the  opium  on  board  the  Flying  Scud  fell  considerably 
short  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  while  at  the  San  Francisco 
rate,  it  lacked  a  trifle  of  five  thousand.  And  fifty  thou- 
sand was  the  price  that  Jim  and  I  had  paid  for  it.  And 
Bellairs  had  been  eager  to  go  higher!    There  is  no  lan- 

278 


THE   CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

guage  to  express  the  stupor  with  which  I  contemplated 
this  result. 

It  may  be  argued  we  were  not  yet  sure;  there  might 
be  yet  another  cache;  and  you  may  be  certain  in  that 
hour  of  my  distress  the  argument  was  not  forgotten. 
There  was  never  a  ship  more  ardently  perquested ;  no 
stone  was  left  unturned,  and  no  expedient  untried ;  day 
after  day  of  growing  despair,  we  punched  and  dug  in 
the  brig's  vitals,  exciting  the  men  with  promises  and 
presents ;  evening  after  evening  Nares  and  I  sat  face  to 
face  in  the  narrow  cabin,  racking  our  minds  for  some 
neglected  possibility  of  search.  I  could  stake  my  salva- 
tion on  the  certainty  of  the  result:  in  all  that  ship  there 
was  nothing  left  of  value  but  the  timber  and  the  copper 
nails.  So  that  our  case  was  lamentably  plain ;  we  had 
paid  fifty  thousand  dollars,  borne  the  charges  of  the 
schooner,  and  paid  fancy  interest  on  money;  and  if 
things  went  well  with  us,  we  might  realise  fifteen  per 
cent,  of  the  first  outlay.  We  were  not  merely  bankrupt, 
we  were  comic  bankrupts :  a  fair  butt  for  jeering  in  the 
streets.  I  hope  I  bore  the  blow  with  a  good  counte- 
nance; indeed,  my  mind  had  long  been  quite  made  up, 
and  since  the  day  we  found  the  opium  I  had  known  the 
result.  But  the  thought  of  Jim  and  Mamie  ached  in 
me  like  a  physical  pain,  and  I  shrank  from  speech  and 
companionship. 

I  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  when  the  captain  pro- 
posed that  we  should  land  apon  the  island.  I  saw  he 
had  something  to  say,  and  only  feared  it  might  be  con- 
solation; for  I  could  just  bear  my  grief,  not  bungling 
sympathy;  and  yet  I  had  no  choice  but  to  accede  to 
his  proposal. 

279 


THE   WRECKER 

We  walked  awhile  along  the  beach  in  silence.  The 
sun  overhead  reverberated  rays  of  heat;  the  staring 
sand,  the  glaring  lagoon,  tortured  our  eyes;  and  the 
birds  and  the  boom  of  the  far-away  breakers  made  a 
savage  symphony. 

"I  don't  require  to  tell  you  the  game's  up?"  Nares 
asked. 

<  'No, "said  I. 

"I  was  thinking  of  getting  to  sea  to-morrow,"  he 
pursued. 

"The  best  thing  you  can  do,"  said  I. 

"Shall  we  say  Honolulu?"  he  inquired. 

"O  yes;  let's  stick  to  the  programme,"  I  cried. 
"Honolulu  be  it!" 

There  was  another  silence,  and  then  Nares  cleared 
his  throat. 

"We've  been  pretty  good  friends,  you  and  me,  Mr. 
Dodd,"  he  resumed.  "  We've  been  going  through  the 
kind  of  thing  that  tries  a  man.  We've  had  the  hardest 
kind  of  work,  we've  been  badly  backed,  and  now  we're 
badly  beaten.  And  we've  fetched  through  without  a 
word  of  disagreement.  I  don't  say  this  to  praise  my- 
self: it's  my  trade;  it's  what  I'm  paid  for,  and  trained 
for,  and  brought  up  to.  But  it  was  another  thing  for 
you;  it  was  all  new  to  you;  and  it  did  me  good  to  see 
you  stand  right  up  to  it  and  swing  right  into  it,  day  in, 
day  out.  And  then  see  how  you've  taken  this  disap- 
pointment, when  everybody  knows  you  must  have  been 
taughtened  up  to  shying-point!  I  wish  you'd  let  me 
tell  you,  Mr.  Dodd,  that  you've  stood  out  mighty  manly 
and  handsomely  in  all  this  business,  and  made  every 
one  like  you  and  admire  you.     And  I  wish  you'd  let  me 

280 


THE  CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

tell  you,  besides,  that  I've  taken  this  wreck  business  as 
much  to  heart  as  you  have;  something  kind  of  rises  in 
my  throat  when  I  think  we're  beaten ;  and  if  I  thought 
waiting  would  do  it,  I  would  stick  on  this  reef  until  we 
starved." 

I  tried  in  vain  to  thank  him  for  these  generous  words, 
but  he  was  beforehand  with  me  in  a  moment. 

"  I  didn't  bring  you  ashore  to  sound  my  praises,"  he 
interrupted.  "We  understand  one  another  now,  that's 
all;  and  I  guess  you  can  trust  me.  What  I  wished  to 
speak  about  is  more  important,  and  it's  got  to  be  faced. 
What  are  we  to  do  about  the  Flying  Scud  and  the  dime 
novel  ?  " 

"I  really  have  thought  nothing  about  that,"  I  replied. 
"But  I  expect  I  mean  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  it;  and  if 
the  bogus  Captain  Trent  is  to  be  found  on  the  earth's 
surface,  I  guess  I  mean  to  find  him." 

"  All  you've  got  to  do  is  talk,"  said  Nares;  "you  can 
make  the  biggest  kind  of  boom ;  it  isn't  often  the  re- 
porters have  a  chance  at  such  a  yarn  as  this;  and  I  can 
tell  you  how  it  will  go.  It  will  go  by  telegraph,  Mr. 
Dodd;  it'll  be  telegraphed  by  the  column,  and  headlined, 
and  frothed  up,  and  denied  by  authority;  and  it'll  hit 
bogus  Captain  Trent  in  a  Mexican  bar-room,  and  knock 
over  bogus  Goddedaal  in  a  slum  somewhere  up  the 
Baltic,  and  bowl  down  Hardy  and  Brown  in  sailors' 
music  halls  round  Greenock.  O,  there's  no  doubt  you 
can  have  a  regular  domestic  Judgment  Day.  The  only 
point  is  whether  you  deliberately  want  to." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  deliberately  don't  want  one  thing: 
I  deliberately  don't  want  to  make  a  public  exhibition  of 
myself  and  Pinkerton:  so  moral  —  smuggling  opium; 

281 


THE  WRECKER 

such  damned  fools  —  paying  fifty  thousand  for  a  '  dead 
horse'! " 

' '  No  doubt  it  might  damage  you  in  a  business  sense, " 
the  captain  agreed.  "And  I'm  pleased  you  take  that 
view ;  for  I've  turned  kind  of  soft  upon  the  job.  There's 
been  some  crookedness  about,  no  doubt  of  it;  but,  Law 
bless  you!  if  we  dropped  upon  the  troupe,  all  the  pre- 
mier artists  would  slip  right  out  with  the  boodle  in  their 
grip-sacks,  and  you'd  only  collar  a  lot  of  old  mutton- 
headed  shell-backs  that  didn't  know  the  back  of  the 
business  from  the  front.  I  don't  take  much  stock  in 
Mercantile  Jack,  you  know  that;  but,  poor  devil,  he's 
got  to  go  where  he's  told;  and  if  you  make  trouble,  ten 
to  one  it'll  make  you  sick  to  see  the  innocents  who  have 
to  stand  the  racket.  It  would  be  different  if  we  under- 
stood the  operation;  but  we  don't,  you  see:  there's  a 
lot  of  queer  corners  in  life;  and  my  vote  is  to  let  the 
blame'  thing  lie." 

"  You  speak  as  if  we  had  that  in  our  power,"  I  ob- 
jected. 

"And  so  we  have,"  said  he. 

M  What  about  the  men  ?  "  I  asked.  "  They  know  too 
much  by  half;  and  you  can't  keep  them  from  talking." 

"Can't  I?"  returned  Nares.  "I  bet  a  boarding- 
master  can!  They  can  be  all  half-seas  over,  when 
they  get  ashore,  blind  drunk  by  dark,  and  cruising 
out  of  the  Golden  Gate  in  different  deep-sea  ships  by 
the  next  morning.  Can't  keep  them  from  talking, 
can't  I  ?  Well,  I  can  make  them  talk  separate,  least- 
ways. If  a  whole  crew  came  talking,  parties  would 
listen ;  but  if  it's  only  one  lone  old  shell-back,  it's  the 
usual  yarn.     And  at  least,  they  needn't  talk  before  six 

28a 


THE  CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING  SCUD" 

months,  or  —  if  we  have  luck,  and  there's  a  whaler 
handy  —  three  years.  And  by  that  time,  Mr.  Dodd,  it's 
ancient  history.'' 

"  That's  what  they  call  shanghaiing,  isn't  it?"  I 
asked.     "  I  thought  it  belonged  to  the  dime  novel." 

"  O,  dime  novels  are  right  enough,"  returned  the  cap- 
tain. "Nothing  wrong  with  the  dime  novel,  only  that 
things  happen  thicker  than  they  do  in  life,  and  the  prac- 
tical seamanship  is  off-colour." 

"  So  we  can  keep  the  business  to  ourselves,"  I  mused. 

"  There's  one  other  person  that  might  blab,"  said  the 
captain.  "Though  I  don't  believe  she  has  anything 
left  to  tell." 

"  And  who  is  she  }  "  I  asked. 

"The  old  girl  there,"  he  answered,  pointing  to  the 
wreck.  "  I  know  there  's  nothing  in  her  ;  but  somehow 
I'm  afraid  of  some  one  else  —  it's  the  last  thing  you'd 
expect,  so  it's  just  the  first  that'll  happen  —  some  one 
dropping  into  this  God-forgotten  island  where  nobody 
drops  in,  waltzing  into  that  wreck  that  we've  grown  old 
with  searching,  stooping  straight  down,  and  picking  right 
up  the  very  thing  that  tells  the  story.  What's  that  to 
me  ?  you  may  ask,  and  why  am  I  gone  Soft  Tommy  on 
this  Museum  of  Crooks  ?  They've  smashed  up  you  and 
Mr.  Pinkerton;  they've  turned  my  hair  grey  with 
conundrums;  they've  been  up  to  larks,  no  doubt;  and 
that's  all  I  know  of  them  —  you  say.  Well,  and  that's 
just  where  it  is.  I  don't  know  enough;  I  don't  know 
what's  uppermost;  it's  just  such  a  lot  of  miscellaneous 
eventualities  as  I  don't  care  to  go  stirring  up;  and  I 
ask  you  to  let  me  deal  with  the  old  girl  after  a  patent 
of  my  own." 

283 


THE  WRECKER 

"Certainly — what  you  please,"  said  I,  scarce  with 
attention,  for  a  new  thought  now  occupied  my  brain. 
"Captain,"  I  broke  out,  "you  are  wrong;  we  cannot 
hush  this  up.     There  is  one  thing  you  have  forgotten." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

"A  bogus  Captain  Trent,  a  bogus  Goddedaal,  a  whole 
bogus  crew,  have  all  started  home," said  I.  "If  we  are 
right,  not  one  of  them  will  reach  his  journey's  end. 
And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  such  a  circumstance  as 
that  can  pass  without  remark  ?  " 

"Sailors,"  said  the  captain,  "only  sailors!  If  they 
were  all  bound  for  one  place,  in  a  body,  I  don't  say  so; 
but  they're  all  going  separate  —  to  Hull,  to  Sweden,  to 
the  Clyde,  to  the  Thames.  Well,  at  each  place,  what  is 
it?  Nothing  new.  Only  one  sailor  man  missing:  got 
drunk,  or  got  drowned,  or  got  left:  the  proper  sailor's  end." 

Something  bitter  in  the  thought  and  in  the  speaker's 
tones  struck  me  hard.  "  Here  is  one  that  has  got  left!  " 
I  cried,  getting  sharply  to  my  feet;  for  we  had  been 
some  time  seated.  "I  wish  it  were  the  other.  I  don't 
—  don't  relish  going  home  to  Jim  with  this!  " 

"See  here,"  said  Nares,  with  ready  tact,  "  I  must  be 
getting  aboard.  Johnson's  in  the  brig  annexing  chan- 
dlery and  canvas,  and  there's  some  things  in  the  Norah 
that  want  fixing  against  we  go  to  sea.  Would  you  like 
to  be  left  here  in  the  chicken-ranch  ?  I'll  send  for 
you  to  supper." 

I  embraced  the  proposal  with  delight.  Solitude,  in  my 
frame  of  mind,  was  not  too  dearly  purchased  at  the  risk 
of  sunstroke  or  sand-blindness ;  and  soon  I  was  alone 
on  the  ill-omened  islet.  I  should  find  it  hard  to  tell  of 
what  I  thought  —  of  Jim,  of  Mamie,  of  our  lost  fortune, 

284 


THE  CARGO   OF  THE   "FLYING   SCUD" 

of  my  lost  hopes,  of  the  doom  before  me:  to  turn  to  at 
some  mechanical  occupation  in  some  subaltern  rank,  and 
to  toil  there,  unremarked  and  unamused,  until  the  hour 
of  the  last  deliverance.  I  was,  at  least,  so  sunk  in  sad- 
ness, that  I  scarce  remarked  where  I  was  going;  and 
chance  (or  some  finer  sense  that  lives  in  us,  and  only 
guides  us  when  the  mind  is  in  abeyance)  conducted  my 
steps  into  a  quarter  of  the  island  where  the  birds  were 
few.  By  some  devious  route,  which  I  was  unable  to 
retrace  for  my  return,  I  was  thus  able  to  mount,  with- 
out interruption,  to  the  highest  point  of  land.  And 
here  I  was  recalled  to  consciousness  by  a  last  discovery. 

The  spot  on  which  I  stood  was  level,  and  commanded 
a  wide  view  of  the  lagoon,  the  bounding  reef,  the  round 
horizon.  Nearer  hand  I  saw  the  sister  islet,  the  wreck, 
the  Nor  ah  Creina,  and  the  Nor 'ah 's  boat  already  mov- 
ing shoreward.  For  the  sun  was  now  low,  flaming  on 
the  sea's  verge;  and  the  galley  chimney  smoked  on 
board  the  schooner. 

It  thus  befell  that  though  my  discovery  was  both  af- 
fecting and  suggestive,  I  had  no  leisure  to  examine  fur- 
ther. What  I  saw  was  the  blackened  embers  of  fire  of 
wreck.  By  all  the  signs,  it  must  have  blazed  to  a  good 
height  and  burned  for  days ;  from  the  scantling  of  a  spar 
that  lay  upon  the  margin  only  half  consumed,  it  must 
have  been  the  work  of  more  than  one;  and  I  received 
at  once  the  image  of  a  forlorn  troop  of  castaways,  house- 
less in  that  lost  corner  of  the  earth,  and  feeding  there 
their  fire  of  signal.  The  next  moment  a  hail  reached 
me  from  the  boat;  and  bursting  through  the  bushes  and 
the  rising  sea-fowl,  I  said  farewell  (I  trust  forever)  to 
that  desert  isle. 

285 


CHAPTER  XVI 

IN   WHICH   I  TURN  SMUGGLER,    AND   THE   CAPTArN   CASUIST 

The  last  night  at  Midway,  I  had  little  sleep ;  the  next 
morning,  after  the  sun  was  risen,  and  the  clatter  of  de- 
parture had  begun  to  reign  on  deck,  I  lay  a  long  while 
dozing;  and  when  at  last  I  stepped  from  the  companion, 
the  schooner  was  already  leaping  through  the  pass  into 
the  open  sea.  Close  on  her  board,  the  huge  scroll  of  a 
breaker  unfurled  itself  along  the  reef  with  a  prodigious 
clamour;  and  behind  I  saw  the  wreck  vomiting  into 
the  morning  air  a  coil  of  smoke.  The  wreaths  already 
blew  out  far  to  leeward ;  flames  already  glittered  in  the 
cabin  skylight;  and  the  sea-fowl  were  scattered  in  sur- 
prise as  wide  as  the  lagoon.  As  we  drew  further  off, 
the  conflagration  of  the  Flying  Scud  flamed  higher;  and 
long  after  we  had  dropped  all  signs  of  Midway  Island, 
the  smoke  still  hung  in  the  horizon  like  that  of  a  dis- 
tant steamer.  With  the  fading  out  of  that  last  vestige, 
the  Nor  ah  Creina  passed  again  into  the  empty  world  of 
cloud  and  water  by  which  she  had  approached ;  and  the 
next  features  that  appeared,  eleven  days  later,  to  break 
the  line  of  sky,  were  the  arid  mountains  of  Oahu. 

It  has  often  since  been  a  comfortable  thought  to  me 
that  we  had  thus  destroyed  the  tell-tale  remnants  of  the 
Flying  Scud;  and  often  a  strange  one  that  my  last  sight 

286 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

and  reminiscence  of  that  fatal  ship  should  be  a  pillar  of 
smoke  on  the  horizon.  To  so  many  others  besides 
myself  the  same  appearance  had  played  a  part  in  the 
various  stages  of  that  business:  luring  some  to  what 
they  little  imagined,  filling  some  with  unimaginable  ter- 
rors. But  ours  was  the  last  smoke  raised  in  the  story ; 
and  with  its  dying  away  the  secret  of  the  Flying  Scud 
became  a  private  property. 

It  was  by  the  first  light  of  dawn  that  we  saw,  close 
on  board,  the  metropolitan  island  of  Hawaii.  We  held 
along  the  coast,  as  near  as  we  could  venture,  with  a 
fresh  breeze  and  under  an  unclouded  heaven ;  beholding, 
as  we  went,  the  arid  mountain  sides  and  scrubby  cocoa- 
palms  of  that  somewhat  melancholy  archipelago.  About 
four  of  the  afternoon  we  turned  Waimanolo  Point,  the 
westerly  headland  of  the  great  bight  of  Honolulu; 
showed  ourselves  for  twenty  minutes  in  full  view;  and 
then  fell  again  to  leeward,  and  put  in  the  rest  of  day- 
light, plying  under  shortened  sail  under  the  lee  of  Wai- 
manolo. 

A  little  after  dark  we  beat  once  more  about  the  point, 
and  crept  cautiously  toward  the  mouth  of  the  Pearl 
Lochs,  where  Jim  and  I  had  arranged  I  was  to  meet  the 
smugglers.  The  night  was  happily  obscure,  the  water 
smooth.  We  showed,  according  to  instructions,  no 
light  on  deck :  only  a  red  lantern  dropped  from  either 
cathead  to  within  a  couple  of  feet  of  the  water.  A  look- 
out was  stationed  on  the  bowsprit  end,  another  in  the 
crosstrees;  and  the  whole  ship's  company  crowded  for- 
ward, scouting  for  enemies  or  friends.  It  was  now  the 
crucial  moment  of  our  enterprise ;  we  were  now  risking 
liberty  and  credit;  and  that  for  a  sum  so  small  to  a  man 

287 


THE  WRECKER 

in  my  bankrupt  situation,  that  I  could  have  laughed 
aloud  in  bitterness.  But  the  piece  had  been  arranged, 
and  we  must  play  it  to  the  finish. 

For  some  while,  we  saw  nothing  but  the  dark  moun- 
tain outline  of  the  island,  the  torches  of  native  fisher- 
men glittering  here  and  there  along  the  foreshore,  and 
right  in  the  midst,  that  cluster  of  brave  lights  with  which 
the  town  of  Honolulu  advertises  itself  to  the  seaward. 
Presently  a  ruddy  star  appeared  inshore  of  us,  and 
seemed  to  draw  near  unsteadily.  This  was  the  antici- 
pated signal;  and  we  made  haste  to  show  the  coun- 
tersign, lowering  a  white  light  from  the  quarter,  ex- 
tinguishing the  two  others,  and  laying  the  schooner 
incontinently  to.  The  star  approached  slowly;  the 
sounds  of  oars  and  of  men's  speech  came  to  us  across 
the  water;  and  then  a  voice  hailed  us. 

"Is  that  Mr.  Dodd?" 

"Yes,"  I  returned.     "Is Jim  Pinkerton  there?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  voice.  "But  there's  one  of 
his  crowd  here;  name  of  Speedy." 

"I'm  here,  Mr.  Dodd,"  added  Speedy  himself.  "I 
have  letters  for  you. " 

"All  right,"  I  replied.  "Come  aboard,  gentlemen, 
and  let  me  see  my  mail." 

A  whaleboat  accordingly  ranged  alongside,  and  three 
men  boarded  us :  my  old  San  Francisco  friend,  the  stock- 
gambler  Speedy,  a  little  wizened  person  of  the  name  of 
Sharpe,  and  a  big,  flourishing,  dissipated-looking  man 
called  Fowler.  The  two  last  (I  learned  afterward)  were 
frequent  partners;  Sharpe  supplied  the  capital,  and 
Fowler,  who  was  quite  a  character  in  the  islands  and 
occupied  a  considerable  station,  brought  activity,  daring, 

288 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

and  a  private  influence,  highly  necessary  in  the  case. 
Both  seemed  to  approach  the  business  with  a  keen 
sense  of  romance;  and  I  believe  this  was  the  chief  at- 
traction, at  least  with  Fowler  —  for  whom  I  early  con- 
ceived a  sentiment  of  liking.  But  in  that  first  moment 
I  had  something  else  to  think  of  than  to  judge  my  new 
acquaintances;  and  before  Speedy  had  fished  out  the 
letters,  the  full  extent  of  our  misfortune  was  revealed. 

"We've  rather  bad  news  for  you,  Mr.  Dodd,"  said 
Fowler.     "Your  firm's  gone  up." 

"Already!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Well,  it  was  thought  rather  a  wonder  Pinkerton  held 
on  as  long  as  he  did,"  was  the  reply.  "  The  wreck  deal 
was  too  big  for  your  credit;  you  were  doing  a  big  busi- 
ness, no  doubt,  but  you  were  doing  it  on  precious  little 
capital;  and  when  the  strain  came,  you  were  bound  to 
go.  Pinkerton's  through  all  right:  seven  cents  divi- 
dend; some  remarks  made,  but  nothing  to  hurt:  the 
press  let  you  down  easy  —  I  guess  Jim  had  relations 
there.  The  only  trouble  is,  that  all  this  Flying  Scud 
affair  got  in  the  papers  with  the  rest;  everybody's  wide 
awake  in  Honolulu;  and  the  sooner  we  get  the  stuff  in 
and  the  dollars  out,  the  better  for  all  concerned." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I,  "you  must  excuse  me.  My 
friend,  the  captain  here,  will  drink  a  glass  of  champagne 
with  you  to  give  you  patience ;  but  as  for  myself,  I  am 
unfit  even  for  ordinary  conversation  till  I  have  read  these 
letters." 

They  demurred  a  little:  and  indeed  the  danger  of  de- 
lay seemed  obvious ;  but  the  sight  of  my  distress,  which 
I  was  unable  entirely  to  control,  appealed  strongly  to 
their  good-nature ;  and  I  was  suffered  at  last  to  get  by 

289 


THE  WRECKER 

myself  on  deck,  where,  by  the  light  of  a  lantern  smug- 
gled under  shelter  of  the  low  rail,  I  read  the  following 
wretched  correspondence. 

"  My  dear  Loudon,"  ran  the  first,  "this  will  be  handed  you  by  your 
friend  Speedy  of  the  Catamount.  His  sterling  character  and  loyal  de- 
votion to  yourself  pointed  him  out  as  the  best  man  for  our  purposes  in 
Honolulu  —  the  parties  on  the  spot  being  difficult  to  manipulate.  A 
man  called  Billy  Fowler  (you  must  have  heard  of  Billy)  is  the  boss;  he 
is  in  politics  some,  and  squares  the  officers.  1  have  hard  times  before 
me  in  the  city,  but  I  feel  as  bright  as  a  dollar  and  as  strong  as  John  L. 
Sullivan.  What  with  Mamie  here,  and  my  partner  speeding  over  the 
seas,  and  the  bonanza  in  the  wreck,  I  feel  like  1  could  juggle  with  the 
Pyramids  of  Egypt,  same  as  conjurers  do  with  aluminium  balls.  My 
earnest  prayers  follow  you,  Loudon,  that  you  may  feel  the  way  I  do — 
just  inspired!  My  feet  don't  touch  the  ground;  I  kind  of  swim. 
Mamie  is  like  Moses  and  Aaron  that  held  up  the  other  individual's 
arms.     She  carries  me  along  like  a  horse  and  buggy.     I  am  beating 

the  record. 

"  Your  true  partner, 

"J.   PlNKERTON." 

Number  two  was  in  a  different  style : — 

"  My  dearest  Loudon,  how  am  I  to  prepare  you  for  this  dire  intelli- 
gence ?  O  dear  me,  it  will  strike  you  to  the  earth.  The  Fiat  has  gone 
forth ;  our  firm  went  bust  at  a  quarter  before  twelve.  It  was  a  bill  of 
Bradley's  (for  $200)  that  brought  these  vast  operations  to  a  close,  and 
evolved  liabilities  of  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  O, 
the  shame  and  pity  of  it!  and  you  but  three  weeks  gone!  Loudon, 
don't  blame  your  partner:  if  human  hands  and  brains  could  have  suf- 
ficed, I  would  have  held  the  thing  together.  But  it  just  slowly  crum- 
bled; Bradley  was  the  last  kick,  but  the  blamed  business  just  melted. 
1  give  the  liabilities;  it's  supposed  they're  all  in;  for  the  cowards  were 
waiting,  and  the  claims  were  filed  like  taking  tickets  to  hear  Patti.  I 
don't  quite  have  the  hang  of  the  assets  yet,  our  interests  were  so  ex- 
tended; but  I  am  at  it  day  and  night,  and  I  guess  will  make  a  creditable 
dividend.  If  the  wreck  pans  out  only  half  the  way  it  ought,  we'll  turn 
the  laugh  still.     I  am  as  full  of  grit  and  work  as  ever,  and  just  tower 

290 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

above  our  troubles.  Mamie  is  a  host  in  herself.  Somehow  I  feel  like 
it  was  only  me  that  had  gone  bust,  and  you  and  she  soared  clear  of  it. 
Hurry  up.     That's  all  you  have  to  do. 

"  Yours  ever, 

"J.  PlNKERTON." 

The  third  was  yet  more  altered :  — 

"  My  poor  Loudon,"  it  began,  "  I  labour  far  into  the  night  getting 
our  affairs  in  order;  you  could  not  believe  their  vastness  and  com- 
plexity. Douglas  B.  Longhurst  said  humorously  that  the  receiver's 
work  would  be  cut  out  for  him.  I  cannot  deny  that  some  of  them 
have  a  speculative  look.  God  forbid  a  sensitive,  refined  spirit  like  yours 
should  ever  come  face  to  face  with  a  Commissioner  in  Bankruptcy; 
these  men  get  all  the  sweetness  knocked  right  out  of  them.  But  I 
could  bear  up  better  if  it  weren't  for  press  comments.  Often  and  often, 
Loudon,  I  recall  to  mind  your  most  legitimate  critiques  of  the  press  sys- 
tem. They  published  an  interview  with  me,  not  the  least  like  what  I 
said,  and  with  jeering  comments ;  it  would  make  your  blood  boil,  it 
was  literally  inhumane ;  I  wouldn't  have  written  it  about  a  yellow 
dog  that  was  in  trouble  like  what  I  am.  Mamie  just  winced,  the  first 
time  she  has  turned  a  hair  right  through  the  whole  catastrophe.  How 
wonderfully  true  was  what  you  said  long  ago  in  Paris,  about  touching 
on  people's  personal  appearance!     The  fellow  said " 

And  then  these  words  had  been  scored  through ;  and 
my  distressed  friend  turned  to  another  subject. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  dwell  upon  our  assets.  They  simply  don't  show 
up.  Even  Thirteen  Star,  as  sound  a  line  as  can  be  produced  upon  this 
coast,  goes  begging.  The  wreck  has  thrown  a  blight  on  all  we  ever 
touched.  And  where's  the  use  ?  God  never  made  a  wreck  big  enough 
to  fill  our  deficit.  I  am  haunted  by  the  thought  that  you  may  blame 
me;  I  know  how  I  despised  your  remonstrances.  O,  Loudon,  don't  be 
hard  on  your  miserable  partner.  The  funny-dog  business  is  what 
kills.  I  fear  your  stern  rectitude  of  mind  like  the  eye  of  God.  I  cannot 
think  but  what  some  of  my  books  seem  mixed  up;  otherwise,  I  don't 
seem  to  see  my  way  as  plain  as  I  could  wish  to.  Or  else  my  brain  is 
gone  soft.     Loudon,  if  there  should  be  any  unpleasantness,  you  can 

291 


THE  WRECKER 

trust  me  to  do  the  right  thing  and  keep  you  clear.  I've  been  telling 
them  already,  how  you  had  no  business  grip  and  never  saw  the  books. 
O,  I  trust  I  have  done  right  in  this!  I  knew  it  was  a  liberty;  1  know 
you  may  justly  complain;  but  it  was  some  things  that  were  said.  And 
mind  you,  all  legitimate  business!  Not  even  your  shrinking  sensitive- 
ness could  find  fault  with  the  first  look  of  one  of  them,  if  they  had 
panned  out  right.  And  you  know,  the  Flying  Scud  was  the  biggest 
gamble  of  the  crowd,  and  that  was  your  own  idea.  Mamie  says  she 
never  could  bear  to  look  you  in  the  face,  if  that  idea  had  been  mine; 
she  is  so  conscientious! 

"  Your  broken-hearted 

"Jim." 

The  last  began  without  formality : — 

"  This  is  the  end  of  me  commercially.  I  give  up;  my  nerve  is  gone. 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  glad;  for  we're  through  the  court.  1  don't 
know  as  ever  I  knew  how,  and  I'm  sure  I  don't  remember.  If  it  pans 
out  —  the  wreck,  1  mean  —  we'll  go  to  Europe,  and  live  on  the  interest 
of  our  money.  No  more  work  for  me.  I  shake  when  people  speak  to 
me.  I  have  gone  on,  hoping  and  hoping,  and  working  and  working, 
and  the  lead  has  pinched  right  out.  I  want  to  lie  on  my  back  in  a  gar- 
den, and  read  Shakespeare  and  E.  P.  Roe.  Don't  suppose  it's  cowardice, 
Loudon.  I'm  a  sick  man.  Rest  is  what  I  must  have.  I've  worked 
hard  all  my  life;  I  never  spared  myself;  every  dollar  I  ever  made,  I've 
coined  my  brains  for  it.  I've  never  done  a  mean  thing;  I've  lived  re- 
spectable, and  given  to  the  poor.  Who  has  a  better  right  to  a  holiday 
than  I  have?  And  I  mean  to  have  a  year  of  it  straight  out;  and  if  I 
don't,  I  shall  lie  right  down  here  in  my  tracks,  and  die  of  worry  and 
brain  trouble.  Don't  mistake.  That's  so.  If  there  are  any  pickings 
at  all,  trust  Speedy;  don't  let  the  creditors  get  wind  of  what  there  is. 
I  helped  you  when  you  were  down;  help  me  now.  Don't  deceive 
yourself;  you've  got  to  help  me  right  now,  or  never.  I  am  clerking, 
and  not  fit  to  cypher.  Mamie  's  typewriting  at  the  Phoenix  Guano 
Exchange,  down  town.  The  light  is  right  out  of  my  life.  I  know 
you'll  not  like  to  do  what  I  propose.     Think  only  of  this;  that  it's  life 

or  death  for 

"Jim  Pinkerton. 

"P.  S.     Our  figure  was  seven  per  cent.     O,  what  a  fall  was  there! 

292 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

Well,  well,  it's  past  mending;  I  don't  want  to  whine.  But,  Loudon, 
I  do  want  to  live.  No  more  ambition;  all  I  ask  is  life.  I  have  so  much 
to  make  it  sweet  to  me!  I  am  clerking,  and  useless  at  that.  I  know 
I  would  have  fired  such  a  clerk  inside  of  forty  minutes,  in  my  time. 
But  my  time's  over.     I  can  only  cling  on  to  you.     Don't  fail 

"Jim  Pinkerton." 

There  was  yet  one  more  postscript,  yet  one  more 
outburst  of  self-pity  and  pathetic  adjuration;  and  a  doc- 
tor's opinion,  unpromising  enough,  was  besides  en- 
closed. I  pass  them  both  in  silence.  I  think  shame  to 
have  shown,  at  so  great  length,  the  half-baked  virtues 
of  my  friend  dissolving  in  the  crucible  of  sickness  and 
distress ;  and  the  effect  upon  my  spirits  can  be  judged 
already.  I  got  to  my  feet,  when  I  had  done,  drew  a 
deep  breath,  and  stared  hard  at  Honolulu.  One  moment 
the  world  seemed  at  an  end;  the  next,  I  was  conscious 
of  a  rush  of  independent  energy.  On  Jim  I  could  rely 
no  longer;  I  must  now  take  hold  myself.  I  must  decide 
and  act  on  my  own  better  thoughts. 

The  word  was  easy  to  say;  the  thing,  at  the  first 
blush,  was  undiscoverable.  1  was  overwhelmed  with 
miserable,  womanish  pity  for  my  broken  friend ;  his  out- 
cries grieved  my  spirit;  I  saw  him  then  and  now — then, 
so  invincible;  now,  brought  so  low  —  and  knew  neither 
how  to  refuse,  nor  how  to  consent  to  his  proposal. 
The  remembrance  of  my  father,  who  had  fallen  in  the 
same  field  unstained,  the  image  of  his  monument  in- 
congruously rising,  a  fear  of  the  law,  a  chill  air  that 
seemed  to  blow  upon  my  fancy  from  the  doors  of  pris- 
ons, and  the  imaginary  clank  of  fetters,  recalled  me  to  a 
different  resolve.  And  then  again,  the  wails  of  my 
sick  partner  intervened.      So  I  stood  hesitating,  and 

293 


THE  WRECKER 

yet  with  a  strong  sense  of  capacity  behind :  sure,  if  I 
could  but  choose  my  path,  that  I  should  walk  in  it  with 
resolution. 

Then  I  remembered  that  I  had  a  friend  on  board,  and 
stepped  to  the  companion. 

"Gentlemen,  "said  I,  "only  a  few  moments  more:  but 
these,  I  regret  to  say,  I  must  make  more  tedious  still  by 
removing  your  companion.  It  is  indispensable  that  I 
should  have  a  word  or  two  with  Captain  Nares." 

Both  the  smugglers  were  afoot  at  once,  protesting. 
The  business,  they  declared,  must  be  despatched  at  once; 
they  had  run  risk  enough,  with  a  conscience;  and  they 
must  either  finish  now,  or  go. 

"  The  choice  is  yours,  gentlemen, "  said  I,  "  and,  I  be- 
lieve, the  eagerness.  I  am  not  yet  sure  that  I  have  any- 
thing in  your  way ;  even  if  I  have,  there  are  a  hundred 
things  to  be  considered ;  and  I  assure  you  it  is  not  at  all 
my  habit  to  do  business  with  a  pistol  to  my  head." 

11  That  is  all  very  proper,  Mr.  Dodd;  there  is  no  wish 
to  coerce  you,  believe  me, "said  Fowler;  "  only,  please 
consider  our  position.  It  is  really  dangerous;  we  were 
not  the  only  people  to  see  your  schooner  off  Wai- 
manolo." 

"Mr.  Fowler,"  I  replied,  "I  was  not  born  yesterday. 
Will  you  allow  me  to  express  an  opinion,  in  which  I 
may  be  quite  wrong,  but  to  which  I  am  entirely  wedded  ? 
If  the  custom-house  officers  had  been  coming,  they 
would  have  been  here  now.  In  other  words,  somebody 
is  working  the  oracle,  and  (for  a  good  guess)  his  name 
is  Fowler." 

Both  men  laughed  loud  and  long;  and  being  supplied 
with  another  bottle  of  Longhurst's  champagne,  suffered 

294 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

the  captain  and  myself  to  leave  them  without  further 
word. 

I  gave  Nares  the  correspondence,  and  he  skimmed  it 
through. 

' '  Now,  captain, "  said  I,  ' '  I  want  a  fresh  mind  on  this. 
What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"It's  large  enough  text,"  replied  the  captain.  "It 
means  you're  to  stake  your  pile  on  Speedy,  hand  him 
over  all  you  can,  and  hold  your  tongue.  I  almost  wish 
you  hadn't  shown  it  me,"  he  added,  wearily.  "What 
with  the  specie  from  the  wreck  and  the  opium  money,  it 
comes  to  a  biggish  deal." 

"That's  supposing  that  I  do  it?"  said  I. 

"Exactly,"  said  he,  "supposing  you  do  it." 

"  And  there  are  pros  and  cons  to  that,"  I  observed. 

"There's  San  Quentin,  to  start  in  with,"  said  the 
captain;  "and  suppose  you  clear  the  penitentiary,  there's 
the  nasty  taste  in  the  mouth.  The  figure's  big  enough 
to  make  bad  trouble,  but  it's  not  big  enough  to  be 
picturesque;  and  I  should  guess  a  man  always  feels 
kind  of  small  who  has  sold  himself  under  six  cyphers. 
That  would  be  my  way,  at  least;  there's  an  excitement 
about  a  million  that  might  carry  me  on;  but  the  other 
way,  I  should  feel  kind  of  lonely  when  I  woke  in  bed. 
Then  there's  Speedy.     Do  you  know  him  well  ?" 

"No,  I  do  not,"  said  I. 

"Well,  of  course  he  can  vamoose  with  the  entire 
speculation,  if  he  chooses,"  pursued  the  captain,  "and 
if  he  don't  I  can't  see  but  what  you've  got  to  support 
and  bed  and  board  with  him  to  the  end  of  time.  I  guess 
it  would  weary  me.  Then  there's  Mr.  Pinkerton,  of 
course.     He's  been  a  good  friend  to  vou,  hasn  t  he  ? 

2Q5 


THE   WRECKER 

Stood  by  you,  and  all  that  ?  and  pulled  you  through  for 
all  he  was  worth  ?  " 

"That  he  has,"  I  cried;  "I  could  never  begin  telling 
you  my  debt  to  him!" 

"Well,  and  that's  a  consideration,"  said  the  captain. 
"As  a  matter  of  principle,  I  wouldn't  look  at  this  busi- 
ness at  the  money.  'Not  good  enough,'  would  be  my 
word.  But  even  principle  goes  under  when  it  comes 
to  friends  —  the  right  sort,  I  mean.  This  Pinkerton  is 
frightened,  and  he  seems  sick;  the  medico  don't  seem 
to  care  a  cent  about  his  state  of  health ;  and  you've  got 
to  figure  how  you  would  like  it,  if  he  came  to  die.  Re- 
member, the  risk  of  this -little  swindle  is  all  yours;  it's 
no  sort  of  risk  to  Mr.  Pinkerton.  Well,  you've  got  to 
put  it  that  way  plainly,  and  see  how  you  like  the 
sound  of  it :  my  friend  Pinkerton  is  in  danger  of  the 
New  Jerusalem,  I  am  in  danger  of  San  Quentin ;  which 
risk  do  I  propose  to  run  ?  " 

"That's  an  ugly  way  to  put  it,"  I  objected,  "and 
perhaps  hardly  fair.  There's  right  and  wrong  to  be 
considered." 

"Don't  know  the  parties,"  replied  Nares;  "and  I'm 
coming  to  them,  anyway.  For  it  strikes  me,  when  it 
came  to  smuggling  opium,  you  walked  right  up  ?  " 

"  So  I  did,"  I  said;  "  sick  I  am  to  have  to  say  it!  " 

"All  the  same,"  continued  Nares,  "  you  went  into  the 
opium-smuggling  with  your  head  down;  and  a  good 
deal  of  fussing  I've  listened  to,  that  you  hadn't  more  of 
it  to  smuggle.  Now,  maybe  your  partner's  not  quite 
fixed  the  same  as  you  are ;  maybe  he  sees  precious  little 
difference  between  the  one  thing  and  the  other." 

1 '  You  could  not  say  truer :  he  sees  none,  I  do  believe, " 
296 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

cried  I;  "  and  though  I  see  one,  I  could  never  tell  you 
how." 

"We  never  can,"  said  the  oracular  Nares;  "taste  is 
all  a  matter  of  opinion.  But  the  point  is,  how  will  your 
friend  take  it  ?  You  refuse  a  favour,  and  you  take  the 
high  horse  at  the  same  time;  you  disappoint  him,  and 
you  rap  him  over  the  knuckles.  It  won't  do,  Mr.  Dodd ; 
no  friendship  can  stand  that.  You  must  be  as  good  as 
your  friend,  or  as  bad  as  your  friend,  or  start  on  a  fresh 
deal  without  him." 

"  I  don't  see  it!  "  said  I.     "You  don't  know  Jim!  " 

"Well,  you  will  see,"  said  Nares.  "  And  now,  here's 
another  point.  This  bit  of  money  looks  mighty  big  to 
Mr.  Pinkerton;  it  may  spell  life  or  health  to  him;  but 
among  an  your  creditors,  I  don't  see  that  it  amounts  to 
a  hill  of  beans  —  I  don't  believe  it'll  pay  their  car-fares 
all  round.  And  don't  you  think  you'll  ever  get  thanked. 
You  were  known  to  pay  a  long  price  for  the  chance  of 
rummaging  that  wreck;  you  do  the  rummaging,  you 
come  home,  and  you  hand  over  ten  thousand  —  or 
twenty,  if  you  like  —  a  part  of  which  you'll  have  to  own 
up  you  made  by  smuggling;  and,  mind!  you'll  never 
get  Billy  Fowler  to  stick  his  name  to  a  receipt.  Now, 
just  glance  at  the  transaction  from  the  outside,  and  see 
what  a  clear  case  it  makes.  Your  ten  thousand  is  a  sop ; 
and  people  will  only  wonder  you  were  so  damned  im- 
pudent as  to  offer  such  a  small  one !  Whichever  way 
you  take  it,  Mr.  Dodd,  the  bottom's  out  of  your  char- 
acter; so  there's  one  thing  less  to  be  considered." 

"I  daresay  you'll  scarce  believe  me,"  said  I,  "but  1 
feel  that  a  positive  relief." 

"You  must  be  made  some  way  different  from  me, 
297 


THE  WRECKER 

then, "  returned  Nares.  ' '  And,  talking  about  me,  I  might 
just  mention  how  I  stand.  You'll  have  no  trouble  from 
me  —  you've  trouble  enough  of  your  own;  and  I'm 
friend  enough,  when  a  friend's  in  need,  to  shut  my  eyes 
and  go  right  where  he  tells  me.  All  the  same,  I'm 
rather  queerly  fixed.  My  owners'll  have  to  rank  with 
the  rest  on  their  charter-party.  Here  am  I,  their  repre- 
sentative! and  I  have  to  look  over  the  ship's  side  while 
the  bankrupt  walks  his  assets  ashore  in  Mr.  Speedy's 
hat-box.  It's  a  thing  I  wouldn't  do  for  James  G.  Blaine ; 
but  I'll  do  it  for  you,  Mr.  Dodd,  and  only  sorry  I  can't 
do  more." 

" Thank  you,  captain;  my  mind  is  made  up,"  said  I. 
"  I'll  go  straight,  ruat  caelum!  I  never  understood  that 
old  tag  before  to-night." 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  my  business  that  decides  you  ?  "  asked 
the  captain. 

"  I'll  never  deny  it  was  an  element,"  said  I.  "I  hope, 
I  hope  I'm  not  cowardly;  I  hope  I  could  steal  for  Jim 
myself;  but  when  it  comes  to  dragging  in  you  and 
Speedy,  and  this  one  and  the  other,  why,  Jim  has  got 
to  die,  and  there's  an  end.  I'll  try  and  work  for  him 
when  I  get  to  'Frisco,  I  suppose;  and  I  suppose  I'll 
fail,  and  look  on  at  his  death,  and  kick  myself:  it  can't 
be  helped  —  I'll  fight  it  on  this  line." 

"I  don't  say  as  you're  wrong,"  replied  Nares,  "and 
I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know  if  you're  right.  It  suits  me 
anyway.  And  look  here  —  hadn't  you  better  just  show 
our  friends  over  the  side  ?  "  he  added ;  "no  good  of  be- 
ing at  the  risk  and  worry  of  smuggling  for  the  benefit 
of  creditors." 

"I  don't  think  of  the  creditors,"  said  I.  "But  I've 
298 


IN  WHICH  I  TURN  SMUGGLER,  AND  THE  CAPTAIN  CASUIST 

kept  this  pair  so  long,  I  haven't  got  the  brass  to  fire 
them  now." 

Indeed,  I  believe  that  was  my  only  reason  for  enter- 
ing upon  a  transaction  which  was  now  outside  my  in- 
terest, but  which  (as  it  chanced)  repaid  me  fifty-fold  in 
entertainment.  Fowler  and  Sharpe  were  both  preter- 
naturally  sharp;  they  did  me  the  honour  in  the  begin- 
ning to  attribute  to  myself  their  proper  vices ;  and  before 
we  were  done  had  grown  to  regard  me  with  an  esteem 
akin  to  worship.  This  proud  position  I  attained  by  no 
more  recondite  arts,  than  telling  the  mere  truth  and  un- 
affectedly displaying  my  indifference  to  the  result.  I 
have  doubtless  stated  the  essentials  of  all  good  diplo- 
macy, which  may  be  rather  regarded,  therefore,  as  a 
grace  of  state,  than  the  effect  of  management.  For  to 
tell  the  truth  is  not  in  itself  diplomatic,  and  to  have  no 
care  for  the  result  a  thing  involuntary.  When  I  men- 
tioned, for  instance,  that  I  had  but  two  hundred  and 
forty  pound  of  drug,  my  smugglers  exchanged  meaning 
glances,  as  who  should  say,  "  Here  is  a  foeman  worthy 
of  our  steel! "  But  when  I  carelessly  proposed  thirty- 
five  dollars  a  pound,  as  an  amendment  to  their  offered 
twenty,  and  wound  up  with  the  remark:  "The  whole 
thing  is  a  matter  of  moonshine  to  me,  gentlemen.  Take 
it  or  want  it,  and  fill  your  glasses  " —  I  had  the  indescrib- 
able gratification  to  see  Sharpe  nudge  Fowler  warningly, 
and  Fowler  choke  down  the  jovial  acceptance  that  stood 
ready  on  his  lips,  and  lamely  substitute  a  "No  —  no 
more  wine,  please,  Mr.  Dodd!"  Nor  was  this  all:  for 
when  the  affair  was  settled  at  fifty  dollars  a  pound  —  a 
shrewd  stroke  of  business  for  my  creditors  — ■  and  our 
friends  had  got  on  board  their  whaleboat  and  shoved 

299 


THE  WRECKER 

off.  it  appeared  they  were  imperfectly  acquainted  with 
the  conveyance  of  sound  upon  still  water,  and  I  had  the 
joy  to  overhear  the  following  testimonial. 

"Deep  man,  that  Dodd,"  said  Sharpe. 

And  the  bass-toned  Fowler  echoed,  "Damned  if  I 
understand  his  game." 

Thus  we  were  left  once  more  alone  upon  the  Norah 
Creina;  and  the  news  of  the  night,  and  the  lamentations 
of  Pinkerton,  and  the  thought  of  my  own  harsh  decision, 
returned  and  besieged  me  in  the  dark.  According  to  all 
the  rubbish  I  had  read,  I  should  have  been  sustained  by 
the  warm  consciousness  of  virtue.  Alas,  I  had  but  the 
one  feeling :  that  I  had  sacrificed  my  sick  friend  to  the 
fear  of  prison-cells  and  stupid  starers.  And  no  moralist 
has  yet  advanced  so  far  as  to  number  cowardice  amongst 
the  things  that  are  their  own  reward. 


300 


CHAPTER   XVII 

LIGHT   FROM   THE    MAN    OF   WAR 

In  the  early  sunlight  of  the  next  day,  we  tossed  close 
off  the  buoy  and  saw  the  city  sparkle  in  its  groves  about 
the  foot  of  the  Punch-bowl,  and  the  masts  clustering 
thick  in  the  small  harbour.  A  good  breeze,  which  had 
risen  with  the  sea,  carried  us  triumphantly  through  the 
intricacies  of  the  passage;  and  we  had  soon  brought  up 
not  far  from  the  landing-stairs.  I  remember  to  have 
remarked  an  ugly  horned  reptile  of  a  modern  warship 
in  the  usual  moorings  across  the  port,  but  my  mind 
was  so  profoundly  plunged  in  melancholy  that  I  paid 
no  heed. 

Indeed,  I  had  little  time  at  my  disposal.  Messieurs 
Sharpe  and  Fowler  had  left  the  night  before  in  the  per- 
suasion that  I  was  a  liar  of  the  first  magnitude;  the 
genial  belief  brought  them  aboard  again  with  the  earliest 
opportunity,  proffering  help  to  one  who  had  proved  how 
little  he  required  it,  and  hospitality  to  so  respectable  a 
character.  I  had  business  to  mind,  I  had  some  need 
both  of  assistance  and  diversion;  I  liked  Fowler  —  I 
don't  know  why ;  and  in  short,  I  let  them  do  with  me 
as  they  desired.  No  creditor  intervening,  I  spent  the 
first  half  of  the  day  inquiring  into  the  conditions  of  the 
tea  and  silk  market  under  the  auspices  of  Sharpe ;  lunched 

301 


THE   WRECKER. 

with  him  in  a  private  apartment  at  the  Hawaiian  Hotel 
—  for  Sharpe  was  a  teetotaller  in  public;  and  about  four 
in  the  afternoon  was  delivered  into  the  hands  of  Fowler. 
This  gentleman  owned  a  bungalow  on  the  Waikiki 
beach ;  and  there  in  company  with  certain  young  bloods 
of  Honolulu,  I  was  entertained  to  a  sea-bathe,  indis- 
criminate cocktails,  a  dinner,  a  hula-hula,  and  (to  round 
off  the  night),  poker  and  assorted  liquors.  To  lose 
money  in  the  small  hours  to  pale,  intoxicated  youth,  has 
always  appeared  to  me  a  pleasure  overrated.  In  my 
then  frame  of  mind,  I  confess  I  found  it  even  delightful; 
put  up  my  money  (or  rather  my  creditors'),  and  put 
down  Fowler's  champagne  with  equal  avidity  and  suc- 
cess; and  awoke  the  next  morning  to  a  mild  headache 
and  the  rather  agreeable  lees  of  the  last  night's  excite- 
ment. The  young  bloods,  many  of  whom  were  still 
far  from  sober,  had  taken  the  kitchen  into  their  own 
hands,  vice  the  Chinaman  deposed;  and  since  each 
was  engaged  upon  a  dish  of  his  own,  and  none  had  the 
least  scruple  in  demolishing  his  neighbour's  handiwork, 
I  became  early  convinced  that  many  eggs  would  be 
broken  and  few  omelets  made.  The  discovery  of  a  jug 
of  milk  and  a  crust  of  bread  enabled  me  to  stay  my  ap- 
petite; and  since  it  was  Sunday,  when  no  business 
could  be  done,  and  the  festivities  were  to  be  renewed 
that  night  in  the  abode  of  Fowler,  it  occurred  to  me  to 
slip  silently  away  and  enjoy  some  air  and  solitude. 

I  turned  seaward  under  the  dead  crater  known  as 
Diamond  Head.  My  way  was  for  some  time  under  the 
shade  of  certain  thickets  of  green,  thorny  trees,  dotted 
with  houses.  Here  I  enjoyed  some  pictures  of  the  native 
life:  wide-eyed,  naked  children,  mingled  with  pigs;  a 

302 


LIGHT   FROM  THE  MAN   OF   WAR 

youth  asleep  under  a  tree;  an  old  gentleman  spelling 
through  glasses  his  Hawaiian  Bible;  the  somewhat  em- 
barrassing spectacle  of  a  lady  at  her  bath  in  a  spring ; 
and  the  glimpse  of  gaudy-coloured  gowns  in  the  deep 
shade  of  the  houses.  Thence  I  found  a  road  along  the 
beach  itself,  wading  in  sand,  opposed  and  buffeted  by 
the  whole  weight  of  the  Trade :  on  one  hand,  the  glit- 
tering and  sounding  surf,  and  the  bay  lively  with  many 
sails;  on  the  other,  precipitous,  arid  gullies  and  sheer 
cliffs,  mounting  towards  the  crater  and  the  blue  sky. 
For  all  the  companionship  of  skimming  vessels,  the  place 
struck  me  with  a  sense  of  solitude.  There  came  in  my 
head  what  I  had  been  told  the  day  before  at  dinner,  of 
a  cavern  above  in  the  bowels  of  the  volcano,  a  place 
only  to  be  visited  with  the  light  of  torches,  a  treasure- 
house  of  the  bones  of  priests  and  warriors,  and  clamor- 
ous with  the  voice  of  an  unseen  river  pouring  seaward 
through  the  crannies  of  the  mountain.  At  the  thought, 
it  was  revealed  to  me  suddenly,  how  the  bungalows, 
and  the  Fowlers,  and  the  bright,  busy  town  and  crowd- 
ing ships,  were  all  children  of  yesterday ;  and  for  cen- 
turies before,  the  obscure  life  of  the  natives,  with  its 
glories  and  ambitions,  its  joys  and  crimes  and  agonies, 
had  rolled  unseen,  like  the  mountain  river,  in  that  sea- 
girt place.  Not  Chaldea  appeared  more  ancient,  nor 
the  Pyramids  of  Egypt  more  abstruse;  and  I  heard  time 
measured  by  "  the  drums  and  tramplings  "  of  immemo- 
rial conquests,  and  saw  myself  the  creature  of  an  hour. 
Over  the  bankruptcy  of  Pinkerton  and  Dodd  of  Montana 
Block,  S.  F.,  and  the  conscientious  troubles  of  the  junior 
partner,  the  spirit  of  eternity  was  seen  to  smile. 
To  this  mood  of  philosophic  sadness,  my  excesses  of 
503 


THE   WRECKER 

the  night  before  no  doubt  contributed ;  for  more  things 
than  virtue  are  at  times  their  own  reward:  but  I  was 
greatly  healed  at  least  of  my  distresses.  And  while  \ 
was  yet  enjoying  my  abstracted  humour,  a  turn  of  the 
beach  brought  me  in  view  of  the  signal  station,  with 
its  watch-house  and  flag-staff,  perched  on  the  imme- 
diate margin  of  a  cliff.  The  house  was  new  and  clean 
and  bald,  and  stood  naked  to  the  Trades.  The  wind 
beat  about  it  in  loud  squalls ;  the  seaward  windows  rat- 
tled without  mercy ;  the  breach  of  the  surf  below  con- 
tributed its  increment  of  noise ;  and  the  fall  of  my  foot 
in  the  narrow  verandah  passed  unheard  by  those  within. 

They  were  two  on  whom  I  thus  entered  unexpectedly : 
the  look-out  man,  with  grizzled  beard,  keen  seaman's 
eyes,  and  that  brand  on  his  countenance  that  comes  of 
solitary  living ;  and  a  visitor,  an  oldish  oratorical  fellow, 
in  the  smart  tropical  array  of  the  British  man-o'-war's 
man,  perched  on  a  table,  and  smoking  a  cigar.  I  was 
made  pleasantly  welcome,  and  was  soon  listening  with 
amusement  to  the  sea-lawyer. 

' '  No,  if  I  hadn't  have  been  born  an  Englishman, "  was 
one  of  his  sentiments,  "damn  me!  I'd  rather 'a  been 
born  a  Frenchy!  I'd  like  to  see  another  nation  fit  to 
black  their  boots."  Presently  after,  he  developed  his 
views  on  home  politics  with  similar  trenchancy.  "  I'd 
rather  be  a  brute  beast  than  what  I'd  be  a  liberal,"  he 
said.  "Carrying  banners  and  that!  a  pig's  got  more 
sense.  Why,  look  at  our  chief  engineer  —  they  do  say 
he  carried  a  banner  with  his  own  'ands :  '  Hooroar  for 
Gladstone! '  I  suppose,  or  '  Down  with  the  Aristocracy! ' 
What  'arm  does  the  aristocracy  do  ?  Show  me  a  coun- 
try any  good  without  one!    Not  the  States;  why,  it's 

304 


LIGHT   FROM   THE   MAN   OF  WAR 

the  'ome  of  corruption !  I  knew  a  man  —  he  was  a  good 
man,  'ome  born  —  who  was  signal  quartermaster  in  the 
Wyandotte.  He  told  me  he  could  never  have  got  there, 
if  he  hadn't  have  '  run  with  the  boys  ' —  told  it  me  as 

I'm  telling  you.  Now  we're  all  British  subjects  here " 

he  was  going  on. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  an  American,"  I  said  apologetically. 

He  seemed  the  least  bit  taken  aback,  but  recovered 
himself ;  and  with  the  ready  tact  of  his  betters,  paid  me 
the  usual  British  compliment  on  the  riposte.  "You 
don't  say  so!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Well,  I  give  you  my 
word  of  honour,  I'd  never  have  guessed  it.  Nobody 
could  tell  it  on  you,"  said  he,  as  though  it  were  some 
form  of  liquor. 

I  thanked  him,  as  I  always  do,  at  this  particular 
stage,  with  his  compatriots :  not  so  much  perhaps  for 
the  compliment  to  myself  and  my  poor  country,  as  for 
the  revelation  (which  is  ever  fresh  to  me)  of  Britannic 
self-sufficiency  and  taste.  And  he  was  so  far  softened 
by  my  gratitude,  as  to  add  a  word  of  praise  on  the 
American  method  of  lacing  sails.  "  You're  ahead  of  us 
in  lacing  sails,"  he  said.  "You  can  say  that  with  a 
clear  conscience." 

"Thank  you,"  I  replied.     "I  shall  certainly  do  so." 

At  this  rate,  we  got  along  swimmingly ;  and  when  I 
rose  to  retrace  my  steps  to  the  Fowlery,  he  at  once 
started  to  his  feet  and  offered  me  the  welcome  solace  of 
his  company  for  the  return.  I  believe  I  discovered  much 
alacrity  at  the  idea ;  for  the  creature  (who  seemed  to  be 
unique,  or  to  represent  a  type  like  that  of  the  dodo)  en- 
tertained  me  hugely.  But  when  he  had  produced  his 
hat,  I  found  I  was  in  the  way  of  more  than  entertain- 

305 


THE  WRECKER 

ment;  for  on  the  ribbon  I  could  read  the  legend: 
"H.  M.  S.  Tempest." 

"  I  say,"  I  began,  when  our  adieus  were  paid,  and  we 
were  scrambling  down  the  path  from  the  look-out,  "it 
was  your  ship  that  picked  up  the  men  on  board  the 
Flying  Scud,  wasn't  it?" 

"  You  may  say  so,"  said  he.  "And  a  blessed  good 
job  for  the  Flying-Scuds.  It's  a  God-forsaken  spot,  that 
Midway  Island." 

"  I've  just  come  from  there,"  said  I.  "It  was  I  who 
bought  the  wreck." 

"Beg  your  pardon,  sir," cried  the  sailor:  "  gen'lem'n 
in  the  white  schooner  ?  " 

"  The  same,"  said  I. 

My  friend  saluted,  as  though  we  were  now,  for  the 
first  time,  formally  introduced. 

"  Of  course,"  I  continued,  "  I  am  rather  taken  up  with 
the  whole  story ;  and  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what 
you  can  of  how  the  men  were  saved." 

"  It  was  like  this,"  said  he.  "We  had  orders  to  call 
at  Midway  after  castaways,  and  had  our  distance  pretty 
nigh  run  down  the  day  before.  We  steamed  half-speed 
all  night,  looking  to  make  it  about  noon;  for  old  Tootles 
—  beg  your  pardon,  sir  —  the  captain  —  was  precious 
scared  of  the  place  at  night.  Well,  there's  nasty,  filthy 
currents  round  that  Midway ;  you  know,  as  has  been 
there;  and  one  on  'em  must  have  set  us  down.  Least- 
ways, about  six  bells,  when  we  had  ought  to  been 
miles  away,  some  one  sees  a  sail,  and  lo  and  be'old, 
there  was  the  spars  of  a  full-rigged  brig!  We  raised 
her  pretty  fast,  and  the  island  after  her;  and  made  out 
she  was  hard  aground,  canted  on  her  bilge,  and  had  her 

306 


LIGHT   FROM   THE  MAN   OF  WAR 

ens'n  flying,  union  down.  It  was  breaking  'igh  on  the 
reef,  and  we  laid  well  out,  and  sent  a  couple  of  boats. 
I  didn't  go  in  neither;  only  stood  and  looked  on;  but  it 
seems  they  was  all  badly  scared  and  muddled,  and  didn't 
know  which  end  was  uppermost.  One  on  'em  kep' 
snivelling  and  wringing  of  his  'ands;  he  come  on  board 
all  of  a  sop  like  a  monthly  nurse.  That  Trent,  he  come 
first,  with  his  'and  in  a  bloody  rag.  I  was  near  'em  as 
I  am  to  you;  and  I  could  make  out  he  was  all  to  bits — 
'eard  his  breath  rattle  in  his  blooming  lungs  as  he  come 
down  the  ladder.  Yes,  they  was  a  scared  lot,  small 
blame  to  'em,  /  say!  The  next  after  Trent,  come  him 
as  was  mate." 

"Goddedaal!"  I  exclaimed. 

"  And  a  good  name  for  him,  too,"  chuckled  the  man- 
o'-war's  man,  who  probably  confounded  the  word  with 
a  familiar  oath.  '*  A  good  name,  too;  only  it  weren't 
his.  He  was  a  gen'lem'n  born,  sir,  as  had  gone  mas- 
kewerading.  One  of  our  officers  knowed  him  at  'ome, 
reckonises  him,  steps  up,  'olds  out  his  'and  right  off, 
and  says  he :  *  'Ullo,  Norrie,  old  chappie ! '  he  says.  The 
other  was  coming  up,  as  bold  as  look  at  it;  didn't  seem 
put  out  —  that's  where  blood  tells,  sir!  Well,  no  sooner 
does  he  'ear  his  born  name  given  him,  than  he  turns  as 
white  as  the  Day  of  Judgment,  stares  at  Mr.  Sebright 
like  he  was  looking  at  a  ghost,  and  then  (I  give  you  my 
word  of  honour)  turned  to,  and  doubled  up  in  a  dead 
faint.  '  Take  him  down  to  my  berth, '  says  Mr.  Sebright. 
"Tis  poor  old  Norrie  Carthew,'  he  says." 

' '  And  what  —  what  sort  of  a  gentleman  was  this  Mr. 
Carthew  ?"  I  gasped. 

"The  ward-room  steward  told  me  he  was  come  of 
307 


THE   WRECKER 

the  best  blood  in  England,"  was  my  friend's  reply: 
"Eton  and  'Arrow  bred;  —  and  might  have  been  a 
bar'net!" 

"No,  but  to  look  at?"  I  corrected  him. 

"The  same  as  you  or  me,"  was  the  uncompromising 
answer:  "  not  much  to  look  at.  /  didn't  know  he  was 
a  gen'lem'n;  but  then,  I  never  see  him  cleaned  up." 

"How  was  that?"  I  cried.  "O,  yes,  I  remember: 
he  was  sick  all  the  way  to  'Frisco,  was  he  not  ?  " 

"Sick,  or  sorry,  or  something,"  returned  my  inform- 
ant. "My  belief,  he  didn't  hanker  after  showing  up. 
He  kep'  close;  the  ward-room  steward,  what  took  his 
meals  in,  told  me  he  ate  nex'  to  nothing;  and  he  was 
fetched  ashore  at  'Frisco  on  the  quiet.  Here  was  how 
it  was.  It  seems  his  brother  had  took  and  died,  him  as 
had  the  estate.  This  one  had  gone  in  for  his  beer,  by 
what  I  could  make  out;  the  old  folks  at  'ome  had  turned 
rusty;  no  one  knew  where  he  had  gone  to.  Here  he 
was,  slaving  in  a  merchant  brig,  shipwrecked  on  Mid- 
way, and  packing  up  his  duds  for  a  long  voyage  in  a 
open  boat.  He  comes  on  board  our  ship,  and  by  God, 
here  he  is  a  landed  proprietor,  and  may  be  in  Parliament 
to-morrow!  It's  no  less  than  natural  he  should  keep 
dark:  so  would  you  and  me,  in  the  same  box." 

"I  daresay,"  said  I.  "But  you  saw  more  of  the 
others  ?  " 

" To  be  sure,"  says  he:  "no  'arm  in  them  from  what 
I  see.  There  was  one  'Ardy  there:  colonial  born  he 
was,  and  had  been  through  a  power  of  money.  There 
was  no  nonsense  about  'Ardy ;  he  had  been  up,  and  he 
had  come  down,  and  took  it  so.  His  'eart  was  in  the 
right  place;    and  he  was  well   informed,   and   knew 

308 


LIGHT   FROM  THE   MAN   OF   WAR 

French ;  and  Latin,  I  believe,  like  a  native !  I  liked  that 
'Ardy;  he  was  a  good-looking  boy,  too." 

"  Did  they  say  much  about  the  wreck  ?"  I  asked. 

"There  wasn't  much  to  say,  I  reckon,"  replied  the 
man-o'-war's  man.  "  It  was  all  in  the  papers.  'Ardy 
used  to  yarn  most  about  the  coins  he  had  gone  through ; 
he  had  lived  with  book-makers,  and  jockeys,  and  pugs, 
and  actors,  and  all  that:  a  precious  low  lot!"  added 
this  judicious  person.  "But  it's  about  here  my  'orse  is 
moored,  and  by  your  leave  I'll  be  getting  ahead." 

1 ' One  moment, "  said  I.    "Is  Mr.  Sebright  on  board  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  he's  ashore  to-day,"  said  the  sailor.  "I 
took  up  a  bag  for  him  to  the  'otel." 

With  that  we  parted.  Presently  after  my  friend  over- 
took and  passed  me  on  a  hired  steed  which  seemed  to 
scorn  its  cavalier;  and  I  was  left  in  the  dust  of  his  pas- 
sage, a  prey  to  whirling  thoughts.  For  I  now  stood, 
or  seemed  to  stand,  on  the  immediate  threshold  of  these 
mysteries.  I  knew  the  name  of  the  man  Dickson  —  his 
name  was  Carthew ;  I  knew  where  the  money  came  from 
that  opposed  us  at  the  sale  —  it  was  part  of  Carthew's 
inheritance;  and  in  my  gallery  of  illustrations  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  wreck,  one  more  picture  hung;  perhaps  the 
most  dramatic  of  the  series.  It  showed  me  the  deck  of 
a  warship  in  that  distant  part  of  the  great  ocean,  the 
officers  and  seamen  looking  curiously  on ;  and  a  man  of 
birth  and  education,  who  had  been  sailing  under  an  alias 
on  a  trading  brig,  and  was  now  rescued  from  desperate 
peril,  felled  like  an  ox  by  the  bare  sound  of  his  own 
name.  I  could  not  fail  to  be  reminded  of  my  own  ex- 
perience at  the  Occidental  telephone.  The  hero  of  three 
styles,  Dickson,  Goddedaal,  or  Carthew,  must  be  the 

309 


THE   WRECKER 

owner  of  a  lively — or  a  loaded  —  conscience,  and  the 
reflection  recalled  to  me  the  photograph  found  on  board 
the  Flying  Scud  ;  just  such  a  man,  I  reasoned,  would  be 
capable  of  just  such  starts  and  crises;  and  I  inclined  to 
think  that  Goddedaal  (or  Carthew)  was  the  mainspring 
of  the  mystery. 

One  thing  was  plain :  as  long  as  the  Tempest  was  in 
reach,  I  must  make  the  acquaintance  of  both  Sebright 
and  the  doctor.  To  this  end,  I  excused  myself  with 
Mr.  Fowler,  returned  to  Honolulu,  and  passed  the  re- 
mainder of  the  day  hanging  vainly  round  the  cool  ver- 
andahs of  the  hotel.  It  was  near  nine  o'clock  at  night 
before  I  was  rewarded. 

"That  is  the  gentleman  you  were  asking  for,"  said 
the  clerk. 

I  beheld  a  man  in  tweeds,  of  an  incomparable  languor 
of  demeanour,  and  carrying  a  cane  with  genteel  effort. 
From  the  name,  I  had  looked  to  find  a  sort  of  Viking 
and  young  ruler  of  the  battle  and  the  tempest;  and  I  was 
the  more  disappointed,  and  not  a  little  alarmed,  to  come 
face  to  face  with  this  impracticable  type. 

"I  believe  I  have  the  pleasure  of  addressing  Lieuten- 
ant Sebright,"  said  I,  stepping  forward. 

"Aw,  yes,"  replied  the  hero;  "but,  aw!  I  dawn't 
knaw  you,  do  I  ?  "  (He  spoke  for  all  the  world  like  Lord 
Foppington  in  the  old  play  —  a  proof  of  the  perennial 
nature  of  man's  affectations.  But  his  limping  dialect,  I 
scorn  to  continue  to  reproduce. ) 

"It  was  with  the  intention  of  making  myself  known, 
that  I  have  taken  this  step,"  said  I,  entirely  unabashed 
(for  impudence  begets  in  me  its  like  —  perhaps  my  only 
martial  attribute).     "We  have  a  common  subject  of  in- 

310 


LIGHT   FROM   THE   MAN   OF  WAR 

terest,  to  me  very  lively;  and  I  believe  I  may  be  in  a 
position  to  be  of  some  service  to  a  friend  of  yours  —  to 
give  him,  at  least,  some  very  welcome  information." 

The  last  clause  was  a  sop  to  my  conscience:  I  could 
not  pretend,  even  to  myself,  either  the  power  or  the  will 
to  serve  Mr.  Carthew ;  but  I  felt  sure  he  would  like  to 
hear  the  Flying  Scud  was  burned. 

"I  don't  know  —  I  —  I  don't  understand  you,"  stam- 
mered my  victim.  "  I  don't  have  any  friends  in  Hono- 
lulu, don't  you  know  ?  " 

"The  friend  to  whom  1  refer  is  English,"  I  replied. 
"It  is  Mr.  Carthew,  whom  you  picked  up  at  Midway. 
My  firm  has  bought  the  wreck;  I  am  just  returned  from 
breaking  her  up;  and  —  to  make  my  business  quite  clear 
to  you  —  I  have  a  communication  it  is  necessary  I 
should  make ;  and  have  to  trouble  you  for  Mr.  Carthew's 
address." 

It  will  be  seen  how  rapidly  I  had  dropped  all  hope  of 
interesting  the  frigid  British  bear.  He,  on  his  side,  was 
plainly  on  thorns  at  my  insistence;  I  judged  he  was 
suffering  torments  of  alarm  lest  I  should  prove  an  unde- 
sirable acquaintance;  diagnosed  him  for  a  shy,  dull,  vain, 
unamiable  animal,  without  adequate  defence  —  a  sort  of 
dishoused  snail;  and  concluded,  rightly  enough,  that  he 
would  consent  to  anything  to  bring  our  interview  to  a 
conclusion.  A  moment  later,  he  had  fled,  leaving  with 
me  a  sheet  of  paper,  thus  inscribed:  — 

Norris  Carthew, 

Stallbridge-le-  Carthew, 

Dorset 
311 


THE  WRECKER 

I  might  have  cried  victory,  the  field  of  battle  and 
some  of  the  enemy's  baggage  remaining  in  my  occupa- 
tion. As  a  matter  of  fact,  my  moral  sufferings  during 
the  engagement  had  rivalled  those  of  Mr.  Sebright;  I 
was  left  incapable  of  fresh  hostilities ;  I  owned  that  the 
navy  of  old  England  was  (for  me)  invincible  as  of  yore; 
and  giving  up  all  thought  of  the  doctor,  inclined  to  sa- 
lute her  veteran  flag,  in  the  future,  from  a  prudent  dis- 
tance. Such  was  my  inclination,  when  I  retired  to  rest ; 
and  my  first  experience  the  next  morning  strengthened 
it  to  certainty.  For  I  had  the  pleasure  of  encountering 
my  fair  antagonist  on  his  way  on  board;  and  he  hon- 
oured me  with  a  recognition  so  disgustingly  dry,  that 
my  impatience  overflowed,  and  (recalling  the  tactics  of 
Nelson)  I  neglected  to  perceive  or  to  return  it. 

Judge  of  my  astonishment,  some  half-hour  later,  to 
receive  a  note  of  invitation  from  the  Tempest. 

"Dear  Sir,"  it  began,  "  we  are  all  naturally  very  much 
interested  in  the  wreck  of  the  Flying  Scud,  and  as  soon 
as  I  mentioned  that  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  your 
acquaintance,  a  very  general  wish  was  expressed  that 
you  would  come  and  dine  on  board.  It  will  give  us  all 
the  greatest  pleasure  to  see  you  to-night,  or  in  case  you 
should  be  otherwise  engaged,  to  luncheon  either  to- 
morrow or  to-day."  A  note  of  the  hours  followed,  and 
the  document  wound  up  with  the  name  of  "J.  Lascelles 
Sebright,"  under  an  undeniable  statement  that  he  was 
sincerely  mine. 

"No,  Mr.  Lascelles  Sebright,"  I  reflected,  "you  are 
not,  but  I  begin  to  suspect  that  (like  the  lady  in  the 
song)  you  are  another's.  You  have  mentioned  your 
adventure,  my  friend;  you  have  been  blown  up;  you 


LIGHT    FROM   THE   MAN    OF   WAR 

have  got  your  orders ;  this  note  has  been  dictated ;  and 
I  am  asked  on  board  (in  spite  of  your  melancholy  pro- 
tests) not  to  meet  the  men,  and  not  to  talk  about  the 
Flying  Scud,  but  to  undergo  the  scrutiny  of  some  one 
interested  in  Carthew :  the  doctor,  for  a  wager.  And  for 
a  second  wager,  all  this  springs  from  your  facility  in  giv- 
ing the  address. "  I  lost  no  time  in  answering  the  billet, 
electing  for  the  earliest  occasion ;  and  at  the  appointed 
hour,  a  somewhat  blackguard-looking  boat's  crew  from 
the  Norah  Creina  conveyed  me  under  the  guns  of  the 
Tempest. 

The  ward-room  appeared  pleased  to  see  me ;  Sebright' s 
brother  officers,  in  contrast  to  himself,  took  a  boyish  in- 
terest in  my  cruise ;  and  much  was  talked  of  the  Flying 
Scud;  of  how  she  had  been  lost,  of  how  I  had  found 
her,  and  of  the  weather,  the  anchorage,  and  the  currents 
about  Midway  Island.  Carthew  was  referred  to  more 
than  once  without  embarrassment;  the  parallel  case  of  a 
late  Earl  of  Aberdeen,  who  died  mate  on  board  a  Yankee 
schooner,  was  adduced.  If  they  told  me  little  of  the 
man,  it  was  because  they  had  not  much  to  tell,  and  only 
felt  an  interest  in  his  recognition  and  pity  for  his  pro- 
longed ill-health.  I  could  never  think  the  subject  was 
avoided ;  and  it  was  clear  that  the  officers,  far  from  prac- 
tising concealment,  had  nothing  to  conceal. 

So  far,  then,  all  seemed  natural,  and  yet  the  doctor 
troubled  me.  This  was  a  tall,  rugged,  plain  man,  on 
the  wrong  side  of  fifty,  already  gray,  and  with  a  restless 
mouth  and  bushy  eyebrows :  he  spoke  seldom,  but  then 
with  gaiety ;  and  his  great,  quaking,  silent  laughter  was 
infectious.  I  could  make  out  that  he  was  at  once  the 
quiz  of  the  ward-room  and  perfectly  respected ;  and  I 


THE   WRECKER 

made  sure  that  he  observed  me  covertly.  It  is  certain 
I  returned  the  compliment.  If  Carthew  had  feigned 
sickness  —  and  all  seemed  to  point  in  that  direction  — 
here  was  the  man  who  knew  all  —  or  certainly  knew 
much.  His  strong,  sterling  face  progressively  and  si- 
lently persuaded  of  his  full  knowledge.  That  was  not 
the  mouth,  these  were  not  the  eyes  of  one  who  would 
act  in  ignorance,  or  could  be  led  at  random.  Nor  again 
was  it  the  face  of  a  man  squeamish  in  the  case  of 
malefactors;  there  was  even  a  touch  of  Brutus  there, 
and  something  of  the  hanging  judge.  In  short,  he 
seemed  the  last  character  for  the  part  assigned  him  in 
my  theories;  and  wonder  and  curiosity  contended  in 
my  mind. 

Luncheon  was  over,  and  an  adjournment  to  the  smok- 
ing-room proposed,  when  (upon  a  sudden  impulse)  I 
burned  my  ships,  and  pleading  indisposition,  requested 
to  consult  the  doctor. 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  my  body,  Dr. 
Urquart,"  said  I,  as  soon  as  we  were  alone. 

He  hummed,  his  mouth  worked,  he  regarded  me 
steadily  with  his  grey  eyes,  but  resolutely  held  his 
peace. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  the  Flying  Scud  and  Mr. 
Carthew, "  I  resumed.  ' '  Come :  you  must  have  expected 
this.  I  am  sure  you  know  all;  you  are  shrewd,  and 
must  have  a  guess  that  I  know  much.  How  are  we  to 
stand  to  one  another  ?  and  how  am  I  to  stand  to  Mr. 
Carthew  ?  " 

"I  do  not  fully  understand  you,"  he  replied,  after  a 
pause;  and  then,  after  another:  "It  is  the  spirit  I  refer 
to,  Mr.  Dodd." 

314 


LIGHT   FROM   THE   MAN   OF  WAR 

"  The  spirit  of  my  inquiries  ?  "  I  asked. 

He  nodded. 

"I  think  we  are  at  cross-purposes,"  said  I.  "The 
spirit  is  precisely  what  I  came  in  quest  of.  I  bought  the 
Flying  Scud  at  a  ruinous  figure,  run  up  by  Mr.  Carthew 
through  an  agent;  and  I  am,  in  consequence,  a  bankrupt. 
But  if  I  have  found  no  fortune  in  the  wreck,  I  have 
found  unmistakable  evidences  of  foul  play.  Conceive 
my  position:  I  am  ruined  through  this  man,  whom  I 
never  saw ;  I  might  very  well  desire  revenge  or  compen- 
sation; and  I  think  you  will  admit  I  have  the  means  to 
extort  either." 

He  made  no  sign  in  answer  to  this  challenge. 

"Can  you  not  understand,  then,"  I  resumed,  "the 
spirit  in  which  I  come  to  one  who  is  surely  in  the  secret, 
and  ask  him,  honestly  and  plainly:  How  do  I  stand  to 
Mr.  Carthew  ?  " 

"I  must  ask  you  to  be  more  explicit,"  said  he. 

"  You  do  not  help  me  much,"  I  retorted.  "  But  see 
if  you  can  understand:  my  conscience  is  not  very  fine- 
spun ;  still,  I  have  one.  Now,  there  are  degrees  of  foul 
play,  to  some  of  which  I  have  no  particular  objection. 
I  am  sure  with  Mr.  Carthew,  I  am  not  at  all  the  person 
to  forego  an  advantage;  and  I  have  much  curiosity. 
But  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  no  taste  for  persecution ; 
and  I  ask  you  to  believe  that  I  am  not  the  man  to  make 
bad  worse,  or  heap  trouble  on  the  unfortunate." 

"Yes;  1  think  I  understand,"  said  he.  "Suppose  I 
pass  you  my  word  that,  whatever  may  have  occurred, 
there  were  excuses  —  great  excuses  —  I  may  say,  very 
great?" 

"It  would  have  weight  with  me,  doctor,"  I  replied. 

3'5 


THE   WRECKER 

"I  may  go  further,"  he  pursued.  "  Suppose  I  had 
been  there  or  you  had  been  there :  after  a  certain  event 
had  taken  place,  it's  a  grave  question  what  we  might 
have  done  —  it's  even  a  question  what  we  could  have 
done  —  ourselves.  Or  take  me.  I  will  be  plain  with 
you,  and  own  that  I  am  in  possession  of  the  facts. 
You  have  a  shrewd  guess  how  I  have  acted  in  that 
knowledge.  May  I  ask  you  to  judge  from  the  character 
of  my  action,  something  of  the  nature  of  that  know- 
ledge, which  I  have  no  call,  nor  yet  no  title,  to  share 
with  you  ?  " 

I  cannot  convey  a  sense  of  the  rugged  conviction  and 
judicial  emphasis  of  Dr.  Urquart's  speech:  to  those  who 
did  not  hear  him,  it  may  appear  as  if  he  fed  me  on  enig- 
mas ;  to  myself,  who  heard,  I  seemed  to  have  received 
a  lesson  and  a  compliment. 

' '  I  thank  you, "  I  said.  ' '  I  feel  you  have  said  as  much 
as  possible,  and  more  than  I  had  any  right  to  ask.  I 
take  that  as  a  mark  of  confidence,  which  I  will  try  to 
deserve.  I  hope,  sir,  you  will  let  me  regard  you  as  a 
friend." 

He  evaded  my  proffered  friendship  with  a  blunt  pro- 
posal to  rejoin  the  mess ;  and  yet  a  moment  later,  con- 
trived to  alleviate  the  snub.  For,  as  we  entered  the 
smoking-room,  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder  with  a 
kind  familiarity. 

"1  have  just  prescribed  for  Mr.  Dodd,"  says  he,  "a 
glass  of  our  Madeira." 

I  have  never  again  met  Dr.  Urquart :  but  he  wrote 
himself  so  clear  upon  my  memory  that  I  think  I  see  him 
still.  And  indeed  I  had  cause  to  remember  the  man 
for  the  sake  of  his  communication.    It  was  hard  enough 


LIGHT    FROM   THE  MAN   OF  WAR 

to  make  a  theory  fit  the  circumstances  of  the  Flying 
Scud;  but  one  in  which  the  chief  actor  should  stand 
the  least  excused,  and  might  retain  the  esteem  or  at 
least  the  pity  of  a  man  like  Dr.  Urquart,  failed  me  ut- 
terly. Here  at  least  was  the  end  of  my  discoveries;  I 
learned  no  more,  till  I  learned  all;  and  my  reader  has 
the  evidence  complete.  Is  he  more  astute  than  I  was  ? 
or,  like  me,  does  he  give  it  up  ? 


3«7 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

I  have  said  hard  words  of  San  Francisco;  they  must 
scarce  be  literally  understood  (one  cannot  suppose  the 
Israelites  did  justice  to  the  land  of  Pharaoh) ;  and  the 
city  took  a  fine  revenge  of  me  on  my  return.  She  had 
never  worn  a  more  becoming  guise;  the  sun  shone,  the 
air  was  lively,  the  people  had  flowers  in  their  button- 
holes and  smiles  upon  their  faces;  and  as  I  made  my 
way  towards  Jim's  place  of  employment,  with  some  very 
black  anxieties  at  heart,  I  seemed  to  myself  a  blot  on  the 
surrounding  gaiety. 

My  destination  was  in  a  by-street,  in  a  mean,  rickety 
building;  "The  Franklin  H.  Dodge  Steam  Printing 
Company  "  appeared  upon  its  front,  and  in  characters 
of  greater  freshness,  so  as  to  suggest  recent  conversion, 
the  watch-cry,  "White  Labor  Only."  In  the  office,  in  a 
dusty  pen,  Jim  sat  alone  before  a  table.  A  wretched 
change  had  overtaken  him  in  clothes,  body,  and  bear- 
ing; he  looked  sick  and  shabby;  he  who  had  once  re- 
joiced in  his  day's  employment,  like  a  horse  among 
pastures,  now  sat  staring  on  a  column  of  accounts,  idly 
chewing  a  pen,  at  times  heavily  sighing,  the  picture  of 
inefficiency  and  inattention.  He  was  sunk  deep  in  a 
painful  reverie;  he  neither  saw  nor  heard  me;  and  I 
stood  and  watched  him  unobserved.     I  had  a  sudden 

318 


CRX)SS-QUESTIONS  AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

vain  relenting.  Repentance  bludgeoned  me.  As  I  had 
predicted  to  Nares,  I  stood  and  kicked  myself.  Here 
was  I  come  home  again,  my  honour  saved ;  there  was 
my  friend  in  want  of  rest,  nursing,  and  a  generous  diet; 
and  I  asked  myself  with  Falstaff,  "What  is  in  that  word 
honour  ?  what  is  that  honour  ?  "  and,  like  Falstaff,  I  told 
myself  that  it  was  air. 

"Jim! "  said  I. 

"Loudon!"  he  gasped,  and  jumped  from  his  chair 
and  stood  shaking. 

The  next  moment  I  was  over  the  barrier,  and  we  were 
hand  in  hand. 

"My  poor  old  man!"  I  cried. 

"Thank  God  you're  home  at  last!"  he  gulped,  and 
kept  patting  my  shoulder  with  his  hand. 

"I've  no  good  news  for  you,  Jim !  "  said  I. 

"You've  come  —  that's  the  good  news  that  I  want," 
he  replied.     "O,  how  I've  longed  for  you,  Loudon!  " 

"I  couldn't  do  what  you  wrote  me,"  I  said,  lower- 
ing my  voice.  "The  creditors  have  it  all.  I  couldn't 
do  it." 

"  Ssh !  "  returned  Jim.  "  I  was  crazy  when  I  wrote. 
I  could  never  have  looked  Mamie  in  the  face  if  we'd 
have  done  it.  O,  Loudon,  what  a  gift  that  woman  is ! 
You  think  you  know  something  of  life:  you  just  don't 
know  anything.  It's  the  goodness  of  the  woman,  it's  a 
revelation ! " 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  I.  "That's  how  I  hoped  to 
hear  you,  Jim." 

"  And  so  the  Flying  Scud  was  a  fraud,"  he  resumed. 
"I  didn't  quite  understand  your  letter,  but  I  made  out 
that." 

319 


THE   WRECKER 

"  Fraud  is  a  mild  term  for  it,"  said  I.  "The  creditors 
will  never  believe  what  fools  we  were.  And  that  re- 
minds me,"  I  continued,  rejoicing  in  the  transition, 
"  how  about  the  bankruptcy  ?  " 

"You  were  lucky  to  be  out  of  that,"  answered  Jim, 
shaking  his  head;  "you  were  lucky  not  to  see  the  pa- 
pers. The  Occidental  called  me  a  fifth-rate  Kerbstone 
broker  with  water  on  the  brain ;  another  said  I  was  a 
tree-frog  that  had  got  into  the  same  meadow  with  Long- 
hurst,  and  had  blown  myself  out  till  I  went  pop.  It 
was  rough  on  a  man  in  his  honeymoon ;  so  was  what 
they  said  about  my  looks,  and  what  I  had  on,  and  the 
way  I  perspired.  But  I  braced  myself  up  with  the 
Flying  Scud.  How  did  it  exactly  figure  out  anyway  ? 
I  don't  seem  to  catch  on  to  that  story,  Loudon." 

"The  devil  you  don't!  "  thinks  I  to  myself;  and  then 
aloud:  "  You  see  we  had  neither  one  of  us  good  luck. 
1  didn't  do  much  more  than  cover  current  expenses;  and 
you  got  floored  immediately.  How  did  we  come  to  go 
so  soon  ?  " 

"  Well,  we'll  have  to  have  a  talk  over  all  this,"  said 
Jim  with  a  sudden  start.  "  I  should  be  getting  to  my 
books ;  and  I  guess  you  had  better  go  up  right  away  to 
Mamie.  She's  at  Speedy's.  She  expects  you  with 
impatience.  She  regards  you  in  the  light  of  a  favourite 
brother,  Loudon." 

Any  scheme  was  welcome  which  allowed  me  to  post- 
pone the  hour  of  explanation,  and  avoid  (were  it  only 
for  a  breathing  space)  the  topic  of  the  Flying  Scud.  I 
hastened  accordingly  to  Bush  Street.  Mrs.  Speedy, 
already  rejoicing  in  the  return  of  a  spouse,  hailed  me 
with  acclamation.     "And  its  beautiful  you're  looking, 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED  ANSWERS 

Mr.  Dodd,  my  dear, "  she  was  kind  enough  to  say.  "And 
a  miracle  they  naygur  waheenies  let  ye  lave  the  oilands. 
I  have  my  suspicions  ofShpeedy,"  she  added,  roguishly. 
"  Did  ye  see  him  after  the  naygresses  now  ?  " 

I  gave  Speedy  an  unblemished  character. 

"The  one  of  ye  will  niver  bethray  the  other,"  said 
the  playful  dame,  and  ushered  me  into  a  bare  room, 
where  Mamie  sat  working  a  type-writer. 

I  was  touched  by  the  cordiality  of  her  greeting.  With 
the  prettiest  gesture  in  the  world  she  gave  me  both  her 
hands;  wheeled  forth  a  chair;  and  produced,  from  a 
cupboard,  a  tin  of  my  favourite  tobacco  and  a  book  of 
my  exclusive  cigarette  papers. 

"There!  "  she  cried,  "you  see,  Mr.  Loudon,  we  were 
all  prepared  for  you;  the  things  were  bought  the  very 
day  you  sailed." 

I  imagine  she  had  always  intended  me  a  pleasant 
welcome;  but  the  certain  fervour  of  sincerity,  which  I 
could  not  help  remarking,  flowed  from  an  unexpected 
source.  Captain  Nares,  with  a  kindness  for  which  I 
can  never  be  sufficiently  grateful,  had  stolen  a  moment 
from  his  occupations,  driven  to  call  on  Mamie,  and 
drawn  her  a  generous  picture  of  my  prowess  at  the 
wreck.  She  was  careful  not  to  breathe  a  word  of  this 
interview,  till  she  had  led  me  on  to  tell  my  adventures 
for  myself. 

"Ah!  Captain  Nares  was  better."  she  cried,  when  1 
had  done.  "  From  your  account,  I  have  only  learned 
one  new  thing,  that  you  are  modest  as  well  as  brave." 

I  cannot  tell  with  what  sort  of  disclamation  I  sought 
to  reply. 

"It  is  of  no  use,"  said  Mamie.     "I  know  a  hero 
321 


THE  WRECKER 

And  when  I  heard  of  you  working  all  day  like  a  com- 
mon labourer,  with  your  hands  bleeding  and  your  nails 
broken  —  and  how  you  told  the  captain  to  'crack  on'  (I 
think  he  said)  in  the  storm,  when  he  was  terrified  him- 
self—  and  the  danger  of  that  horrid  mutiny  "  —  (Nares 
had  been  obligingly  dipping  his  brush  in  earthquake  and 
eclipse) —  "and  how  it  was  all  done,  in  part  at  least,  for 
Jim  and  me  —  I  felt  we  could  never  say  how  we  ad- 
mired and  thanked  you." 

"  Mamie,"  I  cried,  "  don't  talk  of  thanks;  it  is  not  a 
word  to  be  used  between  friends.  Jim  and  I  have  been 
prosperous  together;  now  we  shall  be  poor  together. 
We've  done  our  best,  and  that's  all  that  need  be  said. 
The  next  thing  is  for  me  to  find  a  situation,  and  send  you 
and  Jim  up  country  for  a  long  holiday  in  the  redwoods 
—  for  a  holiday  Jim  has  got  to  have." 

"Jim  can't  take  your  money,  Mr.  Loudon,"  said 
Mamie. 

"Jim  ?"  cried  I.    "He's  got  to.     Didn't  I  take  his?" 

Presently  after,  Jim  himself  arrived,  and  before  he  had 
yet  done  mopping  his  brow,  he  was  at  me  with  the  ac- 
cursed subject.  "Now,  Loudon,"  said  he,  "here  we 
are  all  together,  the  day's  work  done  and  the  evening 
before  us;  just  start  in  with  the  whole  story." 

"  One  word  on  business  first,"  said  I,  speaking  from 
the  lips  outward,  and  meanwhile  (in  the  private  apart- 
ments of  my  brain)  trying  for  the  thousandth  time  to 
find  some  plausible  arrangement  of  my  story.  "  I  want 
to  have  a  notion  how  we  stand  about  the  bankruptcy." 

"O,  that's  ancient  history,"  cried  Jim.  "We  paid 
seven  cents,  and  a  wonder  we  did  as  well.  The  re- 
ceiver—  "  (methought  a  spasm  seized  him  at  the  name 

322 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

of  this  official,  and  he  broke  off).  "  But  it's  all  past  and 
done  with  anyway;  and  what  I  want  to  get  at  is  the 
facts  about  the  wreck.  I  don't  seem  to  understand  it; 
appears  to  me  like  as  there  was  something  underneath. " 

"There  was  nothing  in  it  anyway,"  I  said,  with  a 
forced  laugh. 

"That's  what  I  want  to  judge  of,"  returned  Jim. 

"  How  the  mischief  is  it  I  can  never  keep  you  to  that 
bankruptcy  ?  It  looks  as  if  you  avoided  it,"  said  I  —  for 
a  man  in  my  situation,  with  unpardonable  folly. 

"Don't  it  look  a  little  as  if  you  were  trying  to  avoid 
the  wreck  ?  "  asked  Jim. 

It  was  my  own  doing;  there  was  no  retreat.  "My 
dear  fellow,  if  you  make  a  point  of  it,  here  goes!" 
said  I,  and  launched  with  spurious  gaiety  into  the  cur- 
rent of  my  tale.  I  told  it  with  point  and  spirit; 
described  the  island  and  the  wreck,  mimicked  Ander- 
son and  the  Chinese,  maintained  the  suspense.  .  .  .  My 
pen  has  stumbled  on  the  fatal  word.  I  maintained  the 
suspense  so  well  that  it  was  never  relieved;  and  when 
I  stopped  —  I  dare  not  say  concluded,  where  there  was 
no  conclusion  —  I  found  Jim  and  Mamie  regarding  me 
with  surprise. 

"Well?"  said  Jim. 

"Well,  that's  all,"  said  I. 

"  But  how  do  you  explain  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  can't  explain  it,"  said  I. 

Mamie  wagged  her  head  ominously. 

"  But,  great  Caesar's  ghost!  the  money  was  offered!  " 
cried  Jim.  "It  won't  do,  Loudon;  it's  nonsense,  on 
the  face  of  it!  I  don't  say  but  what  you  and  Nares  did 
your  best;  I'm  sure,  of  course,  you  did;  but  I  do  say, 

323 


THE   WRECKER 

you  got  fooled.  I  say  the  stuff  is  in  that  ship  to-day, 
and  I  say  I  mean  to  get  it. " 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  ship,  I  tell  you,  but  old 
wood  and  iron!  "  said  I. 

''You'll  see,"  said  Jim.  "Next  time  I  go  myself. 
Ill  take  Mamie  for  the  trip;  Longhurst  won't  refuse  me 
the  expense  of  a  schooner.  You  wait  till  1  get  the 
searching  of  her." 

' '  But  you  can't  search  her !  "  cried  1.   • '  She's  burned. " 

"Burned!"  cried  Mamie,  starting  a  little  from  the 
attitude  of  quiescent  capacity  in  which  she  had  hitherto 
sat  to  hear  me,  her  hands  folded  in  her  lap. 

There  was  an  appreciable  pause. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Loudon,"  began  Jim  at  last, 
"but  why  in  snakes  did  you  burn  her?" 

"  It  was  an  idea  of  Nares's,"  said  I. 

"This  is  certainly  the  strangest  circumstance  of  all," 
observed  Mamie. 

"I  must  say,  Loudon,  it  does  seem  kind  of  unex- 
pected," added  Jim.  "It  seems  kind  of  crazy  even. 
What  did  you  —  what  did  Nares  expect  to  gain  by 
burning  her  ?  " 

"I  don't  know;  it  didn't  seem  to  matter;  we  had  got 
all  there  was  to  get,"  said  I. 

"That's  the  very  point,"  cried  Jim.  "It  was  quite 
plain  you  hadn't." 

"What  made  you  so  sure ? "  asked  Mamie. 

"  How  can  I  tell  you  ?  "  I  cried.  "We  had  been  all 
through  her.     We  were  sure;  that's  all  that  I  can  say." 

"  I  begin  to  think  you  were,"  she  returned,  with  a 
significant  emphasis. 

Jim  hurriedly  intervened.  "  What  I  don't  quite  make 
324 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

out,  Loudon,  is  that  you  don't  seem  to  appreciate  the 
peculiarities  of  the  thing, "  said  he.  ' '  It  doesn't  seem  to 
have  struck  you  same  as  it  does  me." 

11  Pshaw!  why  go  on  with  this  ?"  cried  Mamie,  sud- 
denly rising.  "  Mr.  Dodd  is  not  telling  us  either  what 
he  thinks  or  what  he  knows." 

"  Mamie!  "  cried  Jim. 

' '  You  need  not  be  concerned  for  his  feelings,  James ; 
he  is  not  concerned  for  yours,  '  returned  the  lady.  "  He 
dare  not  deny  it,  besides.  And  this  is  not  the  first 
time  he  has  practised  reticence.  Have  you  forgotten 
that  he  knew  the  address,  and  did  not  tell  it  you  until 
that  man  had  escaped  ?" 

Jim  turned  to  me  pleadingly ;  we  were  all  on  our  feet. 
"  Loudon,"  he  said,  ''you  see  Mamie  has  some  fancy; 
and  I  must  say  there's  just  a  sort  of  a  shadow  of  an  ex- 
cuse; for  it  is  bewildering  —  even  to  me,  Loudon,  with 
my  trained  business  intelligence.  For  God's  sake,  clear 
it  up." 

"  This  serves  me  right,"  said  1.  "  I  should  not  have 
tried  to  keep  you  in  the  dark ;  I  should  have  told  you 
at  first  that  I  was  pledged  to  secrecy;  I  should  have 
asked  you  to  trust  me  in  the  beginning.  It  is  all  I  can 
do  now.  There  is  more  of  the  story,  but  it  concerns 
none  of  us,  and  my  tongue  is  tied.  I  have  given  my 
word  of  honour.  You  must  trust  me  and  try  to  forgive 
me." 

"1  daresay  I  am  very  stupid,  Mr.  Dodd,"  begun 
Mamie,  with  an  alarming  sweetness,  "but  I  thought 
you  went  upon  this  trip  as  my  husband's  representa- 
tive and  with  my  husband's  money  ?  You  tell  us  now 
that  you  are  pledged,  but  I  should  have  thought  you 

325 


THE  WRECKER 

were  pledged  first  of  all  to  James.  You  say  it  does  not 
concern  us;  we  are  poor  people,  and  my  husband  is 
sick,  and  it  concerns  us  a  great  deal  to  understand  how 
we  come  to  have  lost  our  money,  and  why  our  repre- 
sentative comes  back  to  us  with  nothing.  You  ask 
that  we  should  trust  you;  you  do  not  seem  to  under- 
stand; the  question  we  are  asking  ourselves  is  whether 
we  have  not  trusted  you  too  much." 

"I  do  not  ask  you  to  trust  me,"  I  replied.  "I  ask 
Jim.     He  knows  me." 

"  You  think  you  can  do  what  you  please  with  James ; 
you  trust  to  his  affection,  do  you  not  ?  And  me,  I  sup- 
pose, you  do  not  consider,"  said  Mamie.  "  But  it  was 
perhaps  an  unfortunate  day  for  you  when  we  were 
married,  for  I  at  least  am  not  blind.  The  crew  run 
away,  the  ship  is  sold  for  a  great  deal  of  money,  you 
know  that  man's  address  and  you  conceal  it,  you  do 
not  find  what  you  were  sent  to  look  for,  and  yet  you 
burn  the  ship;  and  now,  when  we  ask  explanations, 
you  are  pledged  to  secrecy !  But  I  am  pledged  to  no 
such  thing;  I  will  not  stand  by  in  silence  and  see  my 
sick  and  ruined  husband  betrayed  by  his  condescending 
friend.  I  will  give  you  the  truth  for  once.  Mr.  Dodd, 
you  have  been  bought  and  sold." 

"Mamie,"  cried  Jim,  "no  more  of  this!  It's  me 
you're  striking;  it's  only  me  you  hurt.  You  don't 
know,  you  cannot  understand  these  things.  Why,,  to- 
day, if  it  hadn't  been  for  Loudon,  I  couldn't  have  looked 
you  in  the  face.     He  saved  my  honesty." 

"  I  have  heard  plenty  of  this  talk  before,"  she  replied. 
"You  are  a  sweet-hearted  fool,  and  I  love  you  for  it. 
But  I  am  a  clear-headed  woman ;  my  eyes  are  open,  and 

326 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND    CROOKED   ANSWERS 

I  understand  this  man's  hypocrisy.  Did  he  not  come 
here  to-day  and  pretend  he  would  take  a  situation — ■ 
pretend  he  would  share  his  hard-earned  wages  with  us 
until  you  were  well  ?  Pretend!  It  makes  me  furious! 
His  wages!  a  share  of  his  wages!  That  would  have 
been  your  pittance,  that  would  have  been  your  share  of 
the  Flying  Scud  —  you  who  worked  and  toiled  for  him 
when  he  was  a  beggar  in  the  streets  of  Paris.  But  we 
do  not  want  your  charity;  thank  God,  I  can  work  for 
my  own  husband!  See  what  it  is  to  have  obliged  a 
gentleman.  He  would  let  you  pick  him  up  when  he 
was  begging;  he  would  stand  and  look  on,  and  let  you 
black  his  shoes,  and  sneer  at  you.  For  you  were  al- 
ways sneering  at  my  James;  you  always  looked  down 
upon  him  in  your  heart,  you  know  it !  "  She  turned  back 
to  Jim.  "  And  now  when  he  is  rich,"  she  began,  and 
then  swooped  again  on  me.  "  For  you  are  rich,  I  dare 
you  to  deny  it;  I  defy  you  to  look  me  in  the  face  and 
try  to  deny  that  you  are  rich  —  rich  with  our  money  — 
my  husband's  money " 

Heaven  knows  to  what  a  height  she  might  have  risen, 
being,  by  this  time,  bodily  whirled  away  in  her  own 
hurricane  of  words.  Heart-sickness,  a  black  depression, 
a  treacherous  sympathy  with  my  assailant,  pity  unutter- 
able for  poor  Jim,  already  filled,  divided,  and  abashed 
my  spirit.  Flight  seemed  the  only  remedy;  and  mak- 
ing a  private  sign  to  Jim,  as  if  to  ask  permission,  I  slunk 
from  the  unequal  field. 

I  was  but  a  little  way  down  the  street,  when  I  was 
arrested  by  the  sound  of  some  one  running,  and  Jim's 
voice  calling  me  by  name.  He  had  followed  me  with  a 
letter  which  had  been  long  awaiting  my  return. 

327 


THE  WRECKER. 

I  took  it  in  a  dream.  "This  has  been  a  devil  of  a 
business,"  said  L 

"  Don't  think  hard  of  Mamie,"  he  pleaded.  "It's  the 
way  she's  made;  it's  her  high-toned  loyalty.  And  of 
course  I  know  it's  all  right.  I  know  your  sterling  char- 
acter; but  you  didn't,  somehow,  make  out  to  give  us 
the  thing  straight,  Loudon.  Anybody  might  have  —  I 
mean  it  —  I  mean " 

"Never  mind  what  you  mean,  my  poor  Jim,"  said  I. 
"She's  a  gallant  little  woman  and  a  loyal  wife:  and  I 
thought  her  splendid.  My  story  was  as  fishy  as  the 
devil.     I'll  never  think  the  less  of  either  her  or  you." 

"  It'll  blow  over,  it  must  blow  over,"  said  he. 

"  It  never  can,"  I  returned,  sighing:  "and  don't  you 
try  to  make  it!  Don't  name  me,  unless  it's  with  an 
oath.  And  get  home  to  her  right  away.  Good  by,  my 
best  of  friends.  Good  by,  and  God  bless  you.  We  shall 
never  meet  again." 

"O  Loudon,  that  we  should  live  to  say  such  words!  " 
he  cried. 

I  had  no  views  on  life,  beyond  an  occasional  impulse 
to  commit  suicide,  or  to  get  drunk,  and  drifted  down 
the  street,  semi-conscious,  walking  apparently  on  air, 
in  the  light-headedness  of  grief.  I  had  money  in  my 
pocket,  whether  mine  or  my  creditors'  I  had  no  means 
of  guessing;  and,  the  Poodle  Dog  lying  in  my  path,  I 
went  mechanically  in  and  took  a  table.  A  waiter  at- 
tended me,  and  I  suppose  I  gave  my  orders ;  for  pres- 
ently I  found  myself,  with  a  sudden  return  of  con- 
sciousness, beginning  dinner.  On  the  white  cloth  at 
my  elbow  lay  the  letter,  addressed  in  a  clerk's  hand, 
and  bearing  an  English  stamp  and  the  Edinburgh  post- 
328 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

mark.  A  bowl  of  bouillon  and  a  glass  of  wine  awak- 
ened in  one  corner  of  my  brain  (where  all  the  rest  was 
in  mourning,  the  blinds  down  as  for  a  funeral)  a  faint 
stir  of  curiosity ;  and  while  I  waited  the  next  course, 
wondering  the  while  what  I  had  ordered,  I  opened  and 
began  to  read  the  epoch-making  document. 

"  Dear  Sir:  I  am  charged  with  the  melancholy  duty  of  announcing 
to  you  the  death  of  your  excellent  grandfather,  Mr.  Alexander  Loudon, 
on  the  17th  ult.  On  Sunday  the  13th,  he  went  to  church  as  usual  in 
the  forenoon,  and  stopped  on  his  way  home,  at  the  corner  of  Princes 
Street,  in  one  of  our  seasonable  east  winds,  to  talk  with  an  old  friend. 
The  same  evening  acute  bronchitis  declared  itself;  from  the  first,  Dr. 
M'Combie  anticipated  a  fatal  result,  and  the  old  gentleman  appeared  to 
have  no  illusron  as  to  his  own  state.  He  repeatedly  assured  me  it  was 
1  by'  with  him  now;  '  and  high  time,  too,'  he  once  added  with  char- 
acteristic asperity.  He  was  not  in  the  least  changed  on  the  approach 
of  death :  only  (what  I  am  sure  must  be  very  grateful  to  your  feelings) 
he  seemed  to  think  and  speak  even  more  kindly  than  usual  of  yourself: 
referring  to  you  as  'Jeannie's  yin,'  with  strong  expressions  of  regard. 
'  He  was  the  only  one  I  ever  liket  of  the  hale  jing-bang,'  was  one  of  his 
expressions;  and  you  will  be  glad  to  know  that  he  dwelt  particularly 
on  the  dutiful  respect  you  had  always  displayed  in  your  relations.  The 
small  codicil,  by  which  he  bequeaths  you  his  Molesworth  and  other 
professional  works,  was  added  (you  will  observe)  on  the  day  before  his 
death ;  so  that  you  were  in  his  thoughts  until  the  end.  1  should  say  that, 
though  rather  a  trying  patient,  he  was  most  tenderly  nursed  by  your 
uncle,  and  your  cousin,  Miss  Euphemia.  I  enclose  a  copy  of  the  testa- 
ment, by  which  you  will  see  that  you  share  equally  with  Mr.  Adam,  and 
that  I  hold  at  your  disposal  a  sum  nearly  approaching  seventeen  thousand 
pounds.  1  beg  to  congratulate  you  on  this  considerable  acquisition,  and 
expect  your  orders,  to  which  1  shall  hasten  to  give  my  best  attention. 
Thinking  that  you  might  desire  to  return  at  once  to  this  country,  and 
not  knowing  how  you  may  be  placed,  I  enclose  a  credit  for  six  hundred 
pounds.  'Please  sign  the  accompanying  slip,  and  let  me  have  it  at  your 
earliest  convenience.  "  I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  truly, 

"  W.  Rutherford  Gregg." 
329 


THE   WRECKER 

"God  bless  the  old  gentleman!"  I  thought;  "and 
for  that  matter  God  bless  Uncle  Adam!  and  my  cousin 
Euphemia!  and  Mr.  Gregg!"  1  had  a  vision  of  that 
grey  old  life  now  brought  to  an  end  —  "and  high  time 
too" — a  vision  of  those  Sabbath  streets  alternately 
vacant  and  filled  with  silent  people;  of  the  babel  of  the 
bells,  the  long-drawn  psalmody,  the  shrewd  sting  of  the 
east  wind,  the  hollow,  echoing,  dreary  house  to  which 
"Ecky"  had  returned  with  the  hand  of  death  already 
on  his  shoulder;  a  vision,  too,  of  the  long,  rough  coun- 
try lad,  perhaps  a  serious  courtier  of  the  lasses  in  the 
hawthorn  den,  perhaps  a  rustic  dancer  on  the  green, 
who  had  first  earned  and  answered  to  that  harsh  dimin- 
utive. And  I  asked  myself  if,  on  the  whole,  poor  Ecky 
had  succeeded  in  life;  if  the  last  state  of  that  man  were 
not  on  the  whole  worse  than  the  first;  and  the  house  in 
Randolph  Crescent  a  less  admirable  dwelling  than  the 
hamlet  where  he  saw  the  day  and  grew  to  manhood. 
Here  was  a  consolatory  thought  for  one  who  was  him- 
self a  failure. 

Yes,  I  declare  the  word  came  in  my  mind;  and  all 
the  while,  in  another  partition  of  the  brain,  I  was 
glowing  and  singing  for  my  new-found  opulence.  The 
pile  of  gold  —  four  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty 
double  eagles,  seventeen  thousand  ugly  sovereigns, 
twenty-one  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  Napoleons 

—  danced,  and  rang  and  ran  molten,  and  lit  up  life 
with  their  effulgence,  in  the  eye  of  fancy.  Here  were 
all  things  made  plain  to  me:   Paradise  —  Paris,  I  mean 

—  Regained,  Carthew  protected,  Jim  restored,  the  cred- 
itors .  .  . 

' '  The  creditors ! "  I  repeated,  and  sank  back  benumbed. 
330 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

It  was  all  theirs  to  the  last  farthing :  my  grandfather  had 
died  too  soon  to  save  me. 

I  must  have  somewhere  a  rare  vein  of  decision.  In 
that  revolutionary  moment,  I  found  myself  prepared  for 
all  extremes  except  the  one :  ready  to  do  anything,  or 
to  go  anywhere,  so  long  as  I  might  save  my  money. 
At  the  worst,  there  was  flight,  flight  to  some  of  those 
blest  countries  where  the  serpent,  extradition,  has  not 
yet  entered  in. 

On  no  condition  is  extradition 
Allowed  in  Callao! 

—  the  old  lawless  words  haunted  me;  and  I  saw  my- 
self hugging  my  gold  in  the  company  of  such  men  as 
had  once  made  and  sung  them,  in  the  rude  and  bloody 
wharfside  drinking-shops  of  Chili  and  Peru.  The  run 
of  my  ill-luck  the  breach  of  my  old  friendship,  this 
bubble  fortune  flaunted  for  a  moment  in  my  eyes  and 
snatched  again,  had  made  me  desperate  and  (in  the  ex- 
pressive vulgarism)  ugly.  To  drink  vile  spirits  among 
vile  companions  by  the  flare  of  a  pine-torch;  to  go 
burthened  with  my  furtive  treasure  in  a  belt;  to  fight 
for  it  knife  in  hand,  rolling  on  a  clay  floor;  to  flee  per- 
petually in  fresh  ships  and  to  be  chased  through  the  sea 
from  isle  to  isle,  seemed,  in  my  then  frame  of  mind,  a 
welcome  series  of  events. 

That  was  for  the  worst;  but  it  began  to  dawn  slowly 
on  my  mind  that  there  was  yet  a  possible  better.  Once 
escaped,  once  safe  in  Callao,  I  might  approach  my  cred- 
itors with  a  good  grace;  and  properly  handled  by  a 
cunning  agent,  it  was  just  possible  they  might  accept 
some  easy  composition.     The  hope  recalled  me  to  the 

33 1 


THE   WRECKER 

bankruptcy.  It  was  strange,  I  reflected :  often  as  I  had 
questioned  Jim,  he  had  never  obliged  me  with  an  answer. 
In  his  haste  for  news  about  the  wreck,  my  own  no  less 
legitimate  curiosity  had  gone  disappointed.  Hateful  as 
the  thought  was  to  me,  I  must  return  at  once  and  find 
out  where  I  stood. 

I  left  my  dinner  still  unfinished,  paying  for  the  whole 
of  course,  and  tossing  the  waiter  a  gold  piece.  I  was 
reckless;  I  knew  not  what  was  mine  and  cared  not: 
I  must  take  what  I  could  get  and  give  as  I  was  able; 
to  rob  and  to  squander  seemed  the  complementary  parts 
of  my  new  destiny.  I  walked  up  Bush  Street,  whistling, 
brazening  myself  to  confront  Mamie  in  the  first  place, 
and  the  world  at  large  and  a  certain  visionary  judge 
upon  a  bench  in  the  second.  Just  outside,  I  stopped 
and  lighted  a  cigar  to  give  me  greater  countenance; 
and  puffing  this  and  wearing  what  (I  am  sure)  was  a 
wretched  assumption  of  braggadocio,  I  reappeared  on 
the  scene  of  my  disgrace. 

My  friend  and  his  wife  were  finishing  a  poor  meal  — 
rags  of  old  mutton,  the  remainder  cakes  from  breakfast 
eaten  cold,  and  a  starveling  pot  of  coffee. 

' '  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Pinkerton, "  said  I.  * '  Sorry 
to  inflict  my  presence  where  it  cannot  be  desired ;  but 
there  is  a  piece  of  business  necessary  to  be  discussed." 

"Pray  do  not  consider  me,"  said  Mamie,  rising,  and 
she  sailed  into  the  adjoining  bedroom. 

Jim  watched  her  go  and  shook  his  head;  he  looked 
miserably  old  and  ill. 

"What  is  it,  now  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Perhaps  you  remember  you  answered  none  of  my 
questions,"  said  I. 


CROSS-QUESTIONS   AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

"  Your  questions  ?  "  faltered  Jim. 

"  Even  so,  Jim.  My  questions,"  I  repeated.  "I  put 
questions  as  well  as  yourself;  and  however  little  1  may 
have  satisfied  Mamie  with  my  answers,  I  beg  to  remind 
you  that  you  gave  me  none  at  all." 

"You  mean  about  the  bankruptcy?"  asked  Jim. 

I  nodded. 

He  writhed  in  his  chair.  "The  straight  truth  is,  I 
was  ashamed,"  he  said.  "  I  was  trying  to  dodge  you. 
I've  been  playing  fast  and  loose  with  you,  Loudon; 
I've  deceived  you  from  the  first,  I  blush  to  own  it. 
And  here  you  came  home  and  put  the  very  question  I 
was  fearing.  Why  did  we  bust  so  soon  ?  Your  keen 
business  eye  had  not  deceived  you.  That's  the  point, 
that's  my  shame ;  that's  what  killed  me  this  afternoon 
when  Mamie  was  treating  you  so,  and  my  conscience 
was  telling  me  all  the  time,  Thou  art  the  man." 

"What  was  it,  Jim  ?  "  I  asked. 

"What  I  had  been  at  all  the  time,  Loudon,"  he 
wailed;  "and  I  don't  know  how  I'm  to  look  you  in 
the  face  and  say  it,  after  my  duplicity.  It  was  stocks," 
he  added  in  a  whisper. 

' '  And  you  were  afraid  to  tell  me  that !  "  I  cried.  ' '  You 
poor,  old,  cheerless  dreamer!  what  would  it  matter  what 
you  did  or  didn't  ?  Can't  you  see  we're  doomed  ?  And 
anyway,  that's  not  my  point.  It's  how  I  stand  that  I 
want  to  know.  There  is  a  particular  reason.  Am  I 
clear  ?  Have  I  a  certificate,  or  what  have  I  to  do  to  get 
one  ?  And  when  will  it  be  dated  ?  You  can't  think 
what  hangs  by  it!" 

"That's  the  worst  of  all,"  said  Jim,  like  a  man  in  a 
dream,  "  I  can't  see  how  to  tell  him!  " 

333 


THE  WRECKER 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  cried,  a  small  pang  of  terror 
at  my  heart. 

"I'm  afraid  I  sacrificed  you,  Loudon,"  he  said,  look- 
ing at  me  pitifully. 

"Sacrificed  me?"  I  repeated.  "How?  What  do  you 
mean  by  sacrifice  ?  " 

"I  know  it'll  shock  your  delicate  self-respect,"  he 
said;  "but  what  was  I  to  do ?  Things  looked  so  bad. 
The  receiver  — "  (as  usual,  the  name  stuck  in  his 
throat,  and  he  began  afresh).  "There  was  a  lot  of 
talk;  the  reporters  were  after  me  already;  there  was 
the  trouble  and  all  about  the  Mexican  business;  and  I 
got  scared  right  out,  and  I  guess  I  lost  my  head.  You 
weren't  there,  you  see,  and  that  was  my  temptation." 

I  did  not  know  how  long  he  might  thus  beat  about 
the  bush  with  dreadful  hintings,  and  I  was  already  be- 
side myself  with  terror.  What  had  he  done  ?  I  saw  he 
had  been  tempted;  I  knew  from  his  letters  that  he  was 
in  no  condition  to  resist.  How  had  he  sacrificed  the 
absent  ? 

"Jim,"  I  said,  "you  must  speak  right  out.  I've  got 
all  that  I  can  carry." 

"Well,"  he  said — "I  know  it  was  a  liberty  —  I  made 
it  out  you  were  no  business  man,  only  a  stone-broke 
painter;  that  half  the  time  you  didn't  know  anything 
anyway,  particularly  money  and  accounts.  I  said  you 
never  could  be  got  to  understand  whose  was  whose. 
I  had  to  say  that  because  of  some  entries  in  the 
books " 

"  For  God's  sake,"  I  cried,  "  put  me  out  of  this  agony ! 
What  did  you  accuse  me  of?" 

"Accused  you  of?"  repeated  Jim.  "Of  what  I'm 
334 


CROSS-QUESTIONS  AND   CROOKED   ANSWERS 

telling  you.  And  there  being  no  deed  of  partnership,  1 
made  out  you  were  only  a  kind  of  clerk  that  I  called  a 
partner  just  to  give  you  taffy ;  and  so  I  got  you  ranked 
a  creditor  on  the  estate  for  your  wages  and  the  money 
you  had  lent.     And " 

I  believe  I  reeled.  "A  creditor! "  I  roared;  "a  cred- 
itor!    I'm  not  in  the  bankruptcy  at  all  ?  " 

' '  No, "  said  Jim.     ' ■  I  know  it  was  a  liberty " 

"O  damn  your  liberty!  read  that,"  I  cried,  dashing 
the  letter  before  him  on  the  table,  "and  call  in  your 
wife,  and  be  done  with  eating  this  truck" — as  I  spoke, 
I  slung  the  cold  mutton  in  the  empty  grate — "and  let's 
all  go  and  have  a  champagne  supper.  I've  dined  —  I'm 
sure  I  don't  remember  what  I  had;  I'd  dine  again  ten 
scores  of  times  upon  a  night  like  this.  Read  it,  you 
blaying  ass!  I'm  not  insane.  Here,  Mamie,"  I  contin- 
ued, opening  the  bedroom  door,  "come  out  and  make  it 
up  with  me,  and  go  and  kiss  your  husband;  and  I'll  tell 
you  what,  after  the  supper,  let's  go  to  some  place  where 
there's  a  band,  and  I'll  waltz  with  you  till  sunrise." 

"What  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  cried  Jim. 

"It  means  we  have  a  champagne  supper  to-night,  and 
all  go  to  Napa  Valley  or  to  Monterey  to-morrow,"  said 
I.  " Mamie,  go  and  get  your  things  on;  and  you,  Jim, 
sit  down  right  where  you  are,  take  a  sheet  of  paper,  and 
tell  Franklin  Dodge  to  go  to  Texas.  Mamie,  you  were 
right,  my  dear;  I  was  rich  all  the  time,  and  didn't  know 
it." 


335 


CHAPTER   XIX 

TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

The  absorbing  and  disastrous  adventure  of  the  Flying 
Scud  was  now  quite  ended ;  we  had  dashed  into  these 
deep  waters  and  we  had  escaped  again  to  starve,  we 
had  been  ruined  and  were  saved,  had  quarrelled  and 
made  up;  there  remained  nothing  but  to  sing  Te  Deum, 
draw  a  line,  and  begin  on  a  fresh  page  of  my  unwritten 
diary.  I  do  not  pretend  that  I  recovered  all  I  had  lost 
with  Mamie;  it  would  have  been  more  than  I  had 
merited ;  and  I  had  certainly  been  more  uncommunica- 
tive than  became  either  the  partner  or  the  friend.  But 
she  accepted  the  position  handsomely;  and  during  the 
week  that  I  now  passed  with  them,  both  she  and  Jim 
had  the  grace  to  spare  me  questions.  It  was  to  Calis- 
toga  that  we  went;  there  was  some  rumour  of  a  Napa 
land-boom  at  the  moment,  the  possibility  of  stir  at- 
tracted Jim,  and  he  informed  me  he  would  find  a  cer- 
tain joy  in  looking  on,  much  as  Napoleon  on  St.  Helena 
took  a  pleasure  to  read  military  works.  The  field  of 
his  ambition  was  quite  closed ;  he  was  done  with  ac- 
tion; and  looked  forward  to  a  ranch  in  a  mountain  din- 
gle, a  patch  of  corn,  a  pair  of  kine,  a  leisurely  and  con- 
templative age  in  the  green  shade  of  forests.  "Just  let 
me  get  down  on  my  back  in  a  hayfield,"  said  he,  "and 

336 


TRAVELS  WITH   A   SHYSTER 

you'll  find  there's  no  more  snap  to  me  than  that  much 
putty." 

And  for  two  days  the  perfervid  being  actually  rested. 
The  third,  he  was  observed  in  consultation  with  the 
local  editor,  and  owned  he  was  in  two  minds  about 
purchasing  the  press  and  paper.  "  It's  a  kind  of  a  hold 
for  an  idle  man,"  he  said,  pleadingly;  "and  if  the  sec- 
tion was  to  open  up  the  way  it  ought  to,  there  might 
be  dollars  in  the  thing."  On  the  fourth  day  he  was 
gone  till  dinner-time  alone ;  on  the  fifth  we  made  a  long 
picnic  drive  to  the  fresh  field  of  enterprise;  and  the  sixth 
was  passed  entirely  in  the  preparation  of  prospectuses. 
The  pioneer  of  McBride  City  was  already  upright  and 
self-reliant  as  of  yore ;  the  fire  rekindled  in  his  eye,  the 
ring  restored  to  his  voice ;  a  charger  sniffing  battle  and 
saying  ha-ha,  among  the  spears.  On  the  seventh  morn- 
ing we  signed  a  deed  of  partnership,  for  Jim  would  not 
accept  a  dollar  of  my  money  otherwise;  and  having 
once  more  engaged  myself —  or  that  mortal  part  of  me, 
my  purse  —  among  the  wheels  of  his  machinery,  I  re- 
turned alone  to  San  Francisco  and  took  quarters  in  the 
Palace  Hotel. 

The  same  night  I  had  Nares  to  dinner.  His  sunburnt 
face,  his  queer  and  personal  strain  of  talk,  recalled  days 
that  were  scarce  over  and  that  seemed  already  distant. 
Through  the  music  of  the  band  outside,  and  the  chink 
and  clatter  of  the  dining-room,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  I 
heard  the  foaming  of  the  surf  and  the  voices  of  the 
sea-birds  about  Midway  Island.  The  bruises  on  our 
hands  were  not  yet  healed;  and  there  we  sat,  waited  on 
by  elaborate  darkies,  eating  pompino  and  drinking  iced 
champagne. 

337 


THE  WRECKER 

"Think  of  our  dinners  on  the  Nor  ah,  captain,  and 
then  oblige  me  by  looking  round  the  room  for  con- 
trast." 

He  took  the  scene  in  slowly.  "Yes,  it  is  like  a 
dream,"  he  said:  "like  as  if  the  darkies  were  really 
about  as  big  as  dimes;  and  a  great  big  scuttle  might 
open  up  there,  and  Johnson  stick  in  a  great  big  head 
and  shoulders,  and  cry,  'Eight  bells! ' — and  the  whole 
thing  vanish." 

"Well,  it's  the  other  thing  that  has  done  that,"  I  re- 
plied. "It's  all  bygone  now,  all  dead  and  buried.  Amen! 
say  I." 

"I  don't  know  that,  Mr.  Dodd;  and  to  tell  you  the 
fact,  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Nares.  "There's  more 
Flying  Scud  in  the  oven ;  and  the  baker's  name,  I  take 
it,  is  Bellairs.  He  tackled  me  the  day  we  came  in :  sort 
of  a  razee  of  poor  old  humanity — jury  clothes  —  full 
new  suit  of  pimples :  knew  him  at  once  from  your  de- 
scription. I  let  him  pump  me  till  I  saw  his  game.  He 
knows  a  good  deal  that  we  don't  know,  a  good  deal 
that  we  do,  and  suspects  the  balance.  There's  trouble 
brewing  for  somebody." 

I  was  surprised  I  had  not  thought  of  this  before.  Bel- 
lairs had  been  behind  the  scenes ;  he  had  known  Dickson ; 
he  knew  the  flight  of  the  crew;  it  was  hardly  possible 
but  what  he  should  suspect;  it  was  certain  if  he  sus- 
pected, that  he  would  seek  to  trade  on  the  suspicion. 
And  sure  enough,  I  was  not  yet  dressed  the  next  morn- 
ing ere  the  lawyer  was  knocking  at  my  door.  I  let  him 
in,  for  I  was  curious;  and  he,  after  some  ambiguous 
prolegomena,  roundly  proposed  I  should  go  shares  with 
him. 

338 


TRAVELS  WITH   A   SHYSTER 

"Shares  in  what?"  I  inquired. 

"If  you  will  allow  me  to  clothe  my  idea  in  a  some- 
what vulgar  form,"  said  he,  "  I  might  ask  you,  did  you 
go  to  Midway  for  your  health  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  did,"  I  replied. 

"Similarly,  Mr.  Dodd,  you  may  be  sure  I  would  never 
have  taken  the  present  step  without  influential  grounds,  "' 
pursued  the  lawyer.  "  Intrusion  is  foreign  to  my  char- 
acter. But  you  and  I,  sir,  are  engaged  on  the  same 
ends.  If  we  can  continue  to  work  the  thing  in  com- 
pany, I  place  at  your  disposal  my  knowledge  of  the 
law  and  a  considerable  practice  in  delicate  negotiations 
similar  to  this.  Should  you  refuse  to  consent,  you  might 
find  in  me  a  formidable  and  " — he  hesitated — "and  to 
my  own  regret,  perhaps  a  dangerous  competitor." 

"Did  you  get  this  by  heart?"  I  asked,  genially. 

"  I  advise  you  to!  "  he  said,  with  a  sudden  sparkle  of 
temper  and  menace,  instantly  gone,  instantly  succeeded 
by  fresh  cringing.  "I  assure  you,  sir,  I  arrive  in  the 
character  of  a  friend;  and  I  believe  you  underestimate 
my  information.  If  I  may  instance  an  example,  I  am 
acquainted  to  the  last  dime  with  what  you  made  (or 
rather  lost),  and  I  know  you  have  since  cashed  a  con- 
siderable draft  on  London." 

"  What  do  you  infer  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  know  where  that  draft  came  from,"  he  cried,  winc- 
ing back  like  one  who  has  greatly  dared,  and  instantly 
regrets  the  venture. 

"So?"  said  I. 

"You  forget  I  was  Mr.  Dickson's  confidential  agent," 
he  explained.  "You  had  his  address,  Mr.  Dodd.  We 
were  the  only  two  that  he  communicated  with  in  San 

350 


THE   WRECKER 

Francisco.  You  see  my  deductions  are  quite  obvious: 
you  see  how  open  and  frank  I  deal  with  you ;  as  I  should 
wish  to  do  with  any  gentleman  with  whom  I  was  con- 
joined in  business.  You  see  how  much  I  know;  and 
it  can  scarcely  escape  your  strong  common-sense,  how 
much  better  it  would  be  if  I  knew  all.  You  cannot 
hope  to  get  rid  of  me  at  this  time  of  day,  I  have  my 
place  in  the  affair,  I  cannot  be  shaken  off ;  I  am,  if  you 
will  excuse  a  rather  technical  pleasantry,  an  encumbrance 
on  the  estate.  The  actual  harm  I  can  do,  I  leave  you  to 
valuate  for  yourself.  But  without  going  so  far,  Mr. 
Dodd,  and  without  in  any  way  inconveniencing  my- 
self, I  could  make  things  very  uncomfortable.  For  in- 
stance, Mr.  Pinkerton's  liquidation.  You  and  I  know, 
sir  —  and  you  better  than  I  —  on  what  a  large  fund  you 
draw.  Is  Mr.  Pinkerton  in  the  thing  at  all?  It  was 
you  only  who  knew  the  address,  and  you  were  con- 
cealing it.  Suppose  I  should  communicate  with  Mr. 
Pinkerton " 

"Look  here!"  I  interrupted,  "communicate  with 
him  (if  you  will  permit  me  to  clothe  my  idea  in  a  vulgar 
shape)  till  you  are  blue  in  the  face.  There  is  only  one 
person  with  whom  I  refuse  to  allow  you  to  communi- 
cate farther,  and  that  is  myself.     Good  morning." 

He  could  not  conceal  his  rage,  disappointment,  and 
surprise;  and  in  the  passage  (I  have  no  doubt)  was 
shaken  by  St.  Vitus. 

I  was  disgusted  by  this  interview ;  it  struck  me  hard 
to  be  suspected  on  all  hands,  and  to  hear  again  from 
this  trafficker  what  I  had  heard  already  from  Jim's  wife ; 
and  yet  my  strongest  impression  was  different  and  might 
rather  be  described  as  an  impersonal  fear.     There  was 

340 


TRAVELS   WITH   A  SHYSTER 

something  against  nature  in  the  man's  craven  impu- 
dence ;  it  was  as  though  a  lamb  had  butted  me ;  such 
daring  at  the  hands  of  such  a  dastard,  implied  unchange- 
able resolve,  a  great  pressure  of  necessity,  and  powerful 
means.  I  thought  of  the  unknown  Carthew,  and  it 
sickened  me  to  see  this  ferret  on  his  trail. 

Upon  inquiry  I  found  the  lawyer  was  but  just  dis- 
barred for  some  malpractice;  and  the  discovery  added 
excessively  to  my  disquiet.  Here  was  a  rascal  without 
money  or  the  means  of  making  it,  thrust  out  of  the 
doors  of  his  own  trade,  publicly  shamed,  and  doubtless 
in  a  deuce  of  a  bad  temper  with  the  universe.  Here, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  a  man  with  a  secret;  rich,  ter- 
rified, practically  in  hiding;  who  had  been  willing  to 
pay  ten  thousand  pounds  for  the  bones  of  the  Flying 
Scud.  I  slipped  insensibly  into  a  mental  alliance  with 
the  victim ;  the  business  weighed  on  me ;  all  day  long, 
I  was  wondering  how  much  the  lawyer  knew,  how 
much  he  guessed,  and  when  he  would  open  his  attack. 

Some  of  these  problems  are  unsolved  to  this  day ; 
others  were  soon  made  clear.  Where  he  got  Carthew's 
name  is  still  a  mystery;  perhaps  some  sailor  on  the 
Tempest,  perhaps  my  own  sea-lawyer  served  him  for  a 
tool;  but  I  was  actually  at  his  elbow  when  he  learned 
the  address.  It  fell  so.  One  evening,  when  I  had  an 
engagement  and  was  killing  time  until  the  hour,  I 
chanced  to  walk  in  the  court  of  the  hotel  while  the 
band  played.  The  place  was  bright  as  day  with  the 
electric  light;  and  I  recognised,  at  some  distance  among 
the  loiterers,  the  person  of  Bellairs  in  talk  with  a  gen- 
tleman, whose  face  appeared  familiar.  It  was  certainly 
some  one  I  had  seen,  and  seen  recently;  but  who  or 

341 


THE  WRECKER 

where,  I  knew  not.  A  porter  standing  hard  by,  gave 
me  the  necessary  hint.  The  stranger  was  an  English 
navy  man,  invalided  home  from  Honolulu,  where  he  had 
left  his  ship;  indeed  it  was  only  from  the  change  of 
clothes  and  the  effects  of  sickness,  that  I  had  not  imme- 
diately recognised  my  friend  and  correspondent,  Lieu- 
tenant Sebright. 

The  conjunction  of  these  planets  seeming  ominous,  I 
drew  near;  but  it  seemed  Bellairs  had  done  his  busi- 
ness; he  vanished  in  the  crowd,  and  I  found  my  officer 
alone. 

"Do  you  know  whom  you  have  been  talking  to,  Mr. 
Sebright  ?  "  I  began. 

"No,"  said  he.  "I  don't  know  him  from  Adam. 
Anything  wrong  ?  " 

"He  is  a  disreputable  lawyer,  recently  disbarred," 
said  I.  "I  wish  I  had  seen  you  in  time.  I  trust  you 
told  him  nothing  about  Carthew  ?" 

He  flushed  to  his  ears.  "I'm  awfully  sorry,"  he  said. 
"He  seemed  civil,  and  I  wanted  to  get  rid  of  him.  It 
was  only  the  address  he  asked." 

"And  you  gave  it  ?  "  I  cried. 

"I'm  really  awfully  sorry,"  said  Sebright.  "I'm 
afraid  I  did." 

"God  forgive  you!"  was  my  only  comment,  and  I 
turned  my  back  upon  the  blunderer. 

The  fat  was  in  the  fire  now :  Bellairs  had  the  address, 
and  I  was  the  more  deceived  or  Carthew  would  have 
news  of  him.  So  strong  was  this  impression,  and  so 
painful,  that  the  next  morning  I  had  the  curiosity  to  pay 
the  lawyer's  den  a  visit.  An  old  woman  was  scrubbing 
the  stair,  and  the  board  was  down. 

342 


TRAVELS  WITH   A   SHYSTER 

"Lawyer  Bellairs?"  said  the  old  woman.  "Gone 
East  this  morning.  There's  Lawyer  Dean  next  block 
up." 

I  did  not  trouble  Lawyer  Dean,  but  walked  slowly 
back  to  my  hotel,  ruminating  as  I  went.  The  image  of 
the  old  woman  washing  that  desecrated  stair  had  struck 
my  fancy ;  it  seemed  that  all  the  water-supply  of  the 
city  and  all  the  soap  in  the  State  would  scarce  suffice  to 
cleanse  it,  it  had  been  so  long  a  clearing-house  of  dingy 
secrets  and  a  factory  of  sordid  fraud.  And  now  the 
corner  was  untenanted;  some  judge,  like  a  careful 
housewife,  had  knocked  down  the  web,  and  the  bloated 
spider  was  scuttling  elsewhere  after  new  victims.  I  had 
of  late  (as  I  have  said)  insensibly  taken  sides  with 
Carthew;  now  when  his  enemy  was  at  his  heels,  my 
interest  grew  more  warm ;  and  I  began  to  wonder  if  I 
could  not  help.  The  drama  of  the  Flying  Scud  was 
entering  on  a  new  phase.  It  had  been  singular  from  the 
first :  it  promised  an  extraordinary  conclusion ;  and  I 
who  had  paid  so  much  to  learn  the  beginning,  might  pay 
a  little  more  and  see  the  end.  I  lingered  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, indemnifying  myself  after  the  hardships  of  the 
cruise,  spending  money,  regretting  it,  continually  pro- 
mising departure  for  the  morrow.  Why  not  go  indeed, 
and  keep  a  watch  upon  Bellairs  ?  If  I  missed  him,  there 
was  no  harm  done,  I  was  the  nearer  Paris.  If  I  found 
and  kept  his  trail,  it  was  hard  if  I  could  not  put  some 
stick  in  his  machinery,  and  at  the  worst  I  could  promise 
myself  interesting  scenes  and  revelations. 

In  such  a  mixed  humour.  I  made  up  what  it  pleases  me 
to  call  my  mind,  and  once  more  involved  myself  in  the 
story  of  Carthew  and  the  Flying  Scud.     The  same  night 

M3 


THE   WRECKER 

I  wrote  a  letter  of  farewell  to  Jim,  and  one  of  anxious 
warning  to  Dr.  Urquart  begging  him  to  set  Carthew  on 
his  guard ;  the  morrow  saw  me  in  the  ferry-boat ;  and  ten 
days  later,  I  was  walking  the  hurricane  deck  on  the  City 
of  Denver.  By  that  time  my  mind  was  pretty  much  made 
down  again,  its  natural  condition :  I  told  myself  that  I 
was  bound  for  Paris  or  Fontainebleau  to  resume  the  study 
of  the  arts ;  and  I  thought  no  more  of  Carthew  or  Bel- 
lairs,  or  only  to  smile  at  my  own  fondness.  The  one 
I  could  not  serve,  even  if  I  wanted ;  the  other  I  had  no 
means  of  finding,  even  if  I  could  have  at  all  influenced 
him  after  he  was  found. 

And  for  all  that,  I  was  close  on  the  heels  of  an  absurd 
adventure.  My  neighbour  at  table  that  evening  was  a 
'Frisco  man  whom  I  knew  slightly.  I  found  he  had 
crossed  the  plains  two  days  in  front  of  me,  and  this  was 
the  first  steamer  that  had  left  New  York  for  Europe 
since  his  arrival.  Two  days  before  me,  meant  a  day 
before  Bellairs;  and  dinner  was  scarce  done  before  1 
was  closeted  with  the  purser. 

''Bellairs?"  he  repeated.  "Not  in  the  saloon,  I  am 
sure.  He  may  be  in  the  second  class.  The  lists  are  not 
made  out,  but— Hullo!  'Harry  D.  Bellairs?'  That 
the  name  ?     He's  there  right  enough." 

And  the  next  morning  I  saw  him  on  the  forward 
deck,  sitting  in  a  chair,  a  book  in  his  hand,  a  shabby 
puma  skin  rug  about  his  knees :  the  picture  of  respect- 
able decay.  Off  and  on,  I  kept  him  in  my  eye.  He 
read  a  good  deal,  he  stood  and  looked  upon  the  sea,  he 
talked  occasionally  with  his  neighbours,  and  once  when 
a  child  fell  he  picked  it  up  and  soothed  it.  I  damned 
him  in  my  heart;  the  book,  which  I  was  sure  he  did 

344 


TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

not  read  —  the  sea,  to  which  I  was  ready  to  take  oath 
he  was  indifferent  —  the  child,  whom  I  was  certain  he 
would  as  lieve  have  tossed  overboard  —  all  seemed  to 
me  elements  in  a  theatrical  performance;  and  I  made 
no  doubt  he  was  already  nosing  after  the  secrets  of  his 
fellow-passengers.  I  took  no  pains  to  conceal  myself, 
my  scorn  for  the  creature  being  as  strong  as  my  disgust. 
But  he  never  looked  my  way,  and  it  was  night  before  I 
learned  he  had  observed  me. 

I  was  smoking  by  the  engine-room  door,  for  the  air 
was  a  little  sharp,  when  a  voice  rose  close  beside  me  in 
the  darkness. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Dodd  ?  "  it  said. 

"That  you,  Bellairs?"  I  replied. 

"  A  single  word,  sir.  Your  presence  on  this  ship  has 
no  connection  with  our  interview  ?"  he  asked.  "You 
have  no  idea,  Mr.  Dodd,  of  returning  upon  your  deter- 
mination ?  " 

"None,"  said  I;  and  then,  seeing  he  still  lingered,  I 
was  polite  enough  to  add  "Good  evening;  "  at  which 
he  sighed  and  went  away. 

The  next  day,  he  was  there  again  with  the  chair  and 
the  puma  skin ;  read  his  book  and  looked  at  the  sea  with 
the  same  constancy;  and  though  there  was  no  child  to 
be  picked  up,  I  observed  him  to  attend  repeatedly  on  a 
sick  woman.  Nothing  fosters  suspicion  like  the  act  of 
watching;  a  man  spied  upon  can  hardly  blow  his  nose 
but  we  accuse  him  of  designs ;  and  I  took  an  early  op- 
portunity to  go  forward  and  see  the  woman  for  myself. 
She  was  poor,  elderly,  and  painfully  plain ;  I  stood  abashed 
at  the  sight,  felt  I  owed  Bellairs  amends  for  the  injustice 
of  my  thoughts,  and  seeing  him  standing  by  the  rail  in 

345 


THE  WRECKER 

his  usual  attitude  of  contemplation,  walked  up  and  ad- 
dressed him  by  name. 

"  You  seem  very  fond  of  the  sea/'  said  I. 

" 1  may  really  call  it  a  passion,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  replied. 
"  And  the  tall  cataract  haunted  me  like  a  passion, ' '  he 
quoted.  "I  never  weary  of  the  sea,  sir.  This  is  my 
first  ocean  voyage.  I  find  it  a  glorious  experience." 
And  once  more  my  disbarred  lawyer  dropped  into  po- 
etry :  "Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  ocean,  roll!  " 

Though  I  had  learned  the  piece  in  my  reading-book 
at  school,  I  came  into  the  world  a  little  too  late  on  the 
one  hand  —  and  I  daresay  a  little  too  early  on  the  other 
—  to  think  much  of  Byron ;  and  the  sonorous  verse,  pro- 
digiously well  delivered,  struck  me  with  surprise. 

"  You  are  fond  of  poetry,  too  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  am  a  great  reader,"  he  replied.  "  At  one  time  I 
had  begun  to  amass  quite  a  small  but  well  selected 
library ;  and  when  that  was  scattered,  I  still  managed  to 
preserve  a  few  volumes  —  chiefly  of  pieces  designed  for 
recitation  —  which  have  been  my  travelling  compan- 
ions." 

"  Is  that  one  of  them  ?"  I  asked,  pointing  to  the  vol- 
ume in  his  hand. 

"No,  sir,"  he  replied,  showing  me  a  translation  of  the 
Sorrows  of  Werther,  "that  is  a  novel  I  picked  up  some 
time  ago.  It  has  afforded  me  great  pleasure,  though  im- 
moral." 

"O,  immoral!"  cried  I,  indignant  as  usual  at  any 
implication  of  art  and  ethics. 

"Surely  you  cannot  deny  that,  sir  —  if  you  know  the 
book,"  he  said.  "The  passion  is  illicit,  although  cer- 
tainly drawn  with  a  good  deal  of  pathos.     It  is  not  a 

346 


TRAVELS  WITH   A  SHYSTER 

work  one  could  possibly  put  into  the  hands  of  a  lady; 
which  is  to  be  regretted  on  all  accounts,  for  I  do  not 
know  how  it  may  strike  you ;  but  it  seems  to  me  —  as  a 
depiction,  if  I  make  myself  clear — to  rise  high  above 
its  compeers,  even  famous  compeers.  Even  in  Scott, 
Dickens,  Thackeray,  or  Hawthorne,  the  sentiment  of 
love  appears  to  me  to  be  frequently  done  less  justice 
to." 

"  You  are  expressing  a  very  general  opinion,"  said  I. 

"Is  that  so,  indeed,  sir?"  he  exclaimed,  with  unmis- 
takable excitement.  "Is  the  book  well  known?  and 
who  was  Go-eath?  I  am  interested  in  that,  because 
upon  the  title-page  the  usual  initials  are  omitted,  and  it 
runs  simply  '  by  Go-eath. '  Was  he  an  author  of  dis- 
tinction ?    Has  he  written  other  works  ?  " 

Such  was  our  first  interview,  the  first  of  many;  and 
in  all  he  showed  the  same  attractive  qualities  and  de- 
fects. His  taste  for  literature  was  native  and  unaffected ; 
his  sentimentality,  although  extreme  and  a  thought  ridic- 
ulous, was  plainly  genuine.  I  wondered  at  my  own 
innocent  wonder.  I  knew  that  Homer  nodded,  that 
Caesar  had  compiled  a  jest-book,  that  Turner  lived  by 
preference  the  life  of  Puggy  Booth,  that  Shelley  made 
paper  boats,  and  Wordsworth  wore  green  spectacles! 
and  with  all  this  mass  of  evidence  before  me,  I  had  ex- 
pected Bellairs  to  be  entirely  of  one  piece,  subdued  to 
what  he  worked  in,  a  spy  all  through.  As  I  abominated 
the  man's  trade,  so  I  had  expected  to  detest  the  man 
himself;  and  behold,  I  liked  him.  Poor  devil!  he  was 
essentially  a  man  on  wires,  all  sensibility  and  tremour, 
brimful  of  a  cheap  poetry,  not  without  parts,  quite  with- 
out courage.     His  boldness  was  despair;  the  gulf  behind 

347 


THE  WRECKER 

him  thrust  him  on ;  he  was  one  of  those  who  might 
commit  a  murder  rather  than  confess  the  theft  of  a  pos- 
tage-stamp. I  was  sure  that  his  coming  interview  with 
Carthew  rode  his  imagination  like  a  nightmare;  when 
the  thought  crossed  his  mind,  I  used  to  think  I  knew  of 
it,  and  that  the  qualm  appeared  in  his  face  visibly.  Yet 
he  would  never  flinch :  necessity  stalking  at  his  back, 
famine  (his  old  pursuer)  talking  in  his  ear;  and  I  used  to 
wonder  whether  I  most  admired,  or  most  despised,  this 
quivering  heroism  for  evil.  The  image  that  occurred  to 
me  after  his  visit  was  just;  I  had  been  butted  by  a  Iamb; 
and  the  phase  of  life  that  I  was  now  studying  might  be 
called  the  Revolt  of  a  Sheep. 

It  could  be  said  of  him  that  he  had  learned  in  sorrow 
what  he  taught  in  song  —  or  wrong;  and  his  life  was 
that  of  one  of  his  victims.  He  was  born  in  the  back 
parts  of  the  State  of  New  York ;  his  father  a  farmer, 
who  became  subsequently  bankrupt  and  went  West. 
The  lawyer  and  money-lender  who  had  ruined  this 
poor  family  seems  to  have  conceived  in  the  end  a  feeling 
of  remorse;  he  turned  the  father  out  indeed,  but  he 
offered,  in  compensation,  to  charge  himself  with  one  of 
the  sons :  and  Harry,  the  fifth  child  and  already  sickly, 
was  chosen  to  be  left  behind.  He  made  himself  useful 
in  the  office;  picked  up  the  scattered  rudiments  of  an 
education;  read  right  and  left;  attended  and  debated  at 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association;  and  in  all  his 
early  years,  was  the  model  for  a  good  story-book.  His 
landlady's  daughter  was  his  bane.  He  showed  me  her 
photograph ;  she  was  a  big,  handsome,  dashing,  dressy, 
vulgar  hussy,  without  character,  without  tenderness, 
without  mind,  and  (as  the  result  proved)  without  virtue, 

34S 


TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

The  sickly  and  timid  boy  was  in  the  house;  he  was 
handy  ;  when  she  was  otherwise  unoccupied,  she  used 
and  played  with  him :  Romeo  and  Cressida ;  till  in  that 
dreary  life  of  a  poor  boy  in  a  country  town,  she  grew  to 
be  the  light  of  his  days  and  the  subject  of  his  dreams. 
He  worked  hard,  like  Jacob,  for  a  wife;  he  surpassed 
his  patron  in  sharp  practice ;  he  was  made  head  clerk ; 
and  the  same  night,  encouraged  by  a  hundred  freedoms, 
depressed  by  the  sense  of  his  youth  and  his  infirmities, 
he  offered  marriage  and  was  received  with  laughter. 
Not  a  year  had  passed,  before  his  master,  conscious  of 
growing  infirmities,  took  him  for  a  partner;  he  proposed 
again;  he  was  accepted;  led  two  years  of  troubled 
married  life;  and  awoke  one  morning  to  find  his  wife 
had  run  away  with  a  dashing  drummer,  and  had  left 
him  heavily  in  debt.  The  debt,  and  not  the  drummer, 
was  supposed  to  be  the  cause  of  the  hegira;  she  had 
concealed  her  liabilities,  they  were  on  the  point  of 
bursting  forth,  she  was  weary  of  Bellairs ;  and  she  took 
the  drummer  as  she  might  have  taken  a  cab.  The  blow 
disabled  her  husband;  his  partner  was  dead;  he  was 
now  alone  in  the  business,  for  which  he  was  no  longer 
fit;  the  debts  hampered  him;  bankruptcy  followed; 
and  he  fled  from  city  to  city,  falling  daily  into  lower 
practice.  It  is  to  be  considered  that  he  had  been  taught, 
and  had  learned  as  a  delightful  duty,  a  kind  of  business 
whose  highest  merit  is  to  escape  the  commentaries  of 
the  bench:  that  of  the  usurious  lawyer  in  a  county 
town.  With  this  training,  he  was  now  shot,  a  penni- 
less stranger,  into  the  deeper  gulfs  of  cities ;  and  the  re- 
sult is  scarce  a  thing  to  be  surprised  at. 

"  Have  you  heard  of  your  wife  again  ?"  I  asked. 
549 


THE  WRECKER 

He  displayed  a  pitiful  agitation.  "I  am  afraid  you 
will  think  ill  of  me,"  he  said. 

"'  Have  you  taken  her  back  ?  "  I  asked. 

u  No,  sir.  I  trust  I  have  too  much  self-respect,"  he 
answered,  "and,  at  least,  I  was  never  tempted.  She 
won't  come,  she  dislikes,  she  seems  to  have  conceived  a 
positive  distaste  for  me,  and  yet  I  was  considered  an 
indulgent  husband." 

"  You  are  still  in  relations,  then  ?"  I  asked. 

Cl  I  place  myself  in  your  hands,  Mr.  Dodd,"  he  replied. 
"The  world  is  very  hard;  I  have  found  it  bitter  hard 
myself — bitter  hard  to  live.  How  much  worse  for  a 
woman,  and  one  who  has  placed  herself  (by  her  own 
misconduct,  I  am  far  from  denying  that)  in  so  unfortu- 
nate a  position!  " 

"In  short,  you  support  her?"  I  suggested. 

"I  cannot  deny  it.  I  practically  do,"  he  admitted. 
"  It  has  been  a  mill-stone  round  my  neck.  But  I  think 
she  is  grateful.     You  can  see  for  yourself." 

He  handed  me  a  letter  in  a  sprawling,  ignorant  hand, 
but  written  with  violet  ink  on  fine,  pink  paper  with  a 
monogram.  It  was  very  foolishly  expressed,  and  I 
thought  (except  for  a  few  obvious  cajoleries)  very  heart- 
less and  greedy  in  meaning.  The  writer  said  she  had 
been  sick,  which  I  disbelieved;  declared  the  last  remit- 
tance was  all  gone  in  doctor's  bills,  for  which  I  took  the 
liberty  of  substituting  dress,  drink,  and  monograms; 
and  prayed  for  an  increase,  which  I  could  only  hope  had 
been  denied  her. 

"  I  think  she  is  really  grateful  ?  "  he  asked,  with  some 
eagerness,  as  I  returned  it. 

"  I  daresay,"  said  I.  "  Has  she  any  claim  on  you  ?  " 
350 


TRAVELS   WITH   A  SHYSTER 

"  O,  no,  sir.  I  divorced  her,"  he  replied.  "I  have  a 
very  strong  sense  of  self-respect  in  such  matters,  and  I 
divorced  her  immediately." 

"What  sort  of  life  is  she  leading  now  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  will  not  deceive  you,  Mr.  Dodd.  I  do  not  know, 
I  make  a  point  of  not  knowing;  it  appears  more  digni- 
fied. I  have  been  very  harshly  criticised,"  he  added, 
sighing. 

It  will  be  seen  that  I  had  fallen  into  an  ignominious 
intimacy  with  the  man  I  had  gone  out  to  thwart.  My 
pity  for  the  creature,  his  admiration  for  myself,  his 
pleasure  in  my  society,  which  was  clearly  unassumed, 
were  the  bonds  with  which  I  was  fettered;  perhaps  I 
should  add,  in  honesty,  my  own  ill-regulated  interest  in 
the  phases  of  life  and  human  character.  The  fact  is  (at 
least)  that  we  spent  hours  together  daily,  and  that  I  was 
nearly  as  much  on  the  forward  deck  as  in  the  saloon. 
Yet  all  the  while  I  could  never  forget  he  was  a  shabby 
trickster,  embarked  that  very  moment  in  a  dirty  enter- 
prise. I  used  to  tell  myself  at  first  that  our  acquaintance 
was  a  stroke  of  art,  and  that  I  was  somehow  fortifying 
Carthew.  I  told  myself,  I  say ;  but  I  was  no  such  fool 
as  to  believe  it,  even  then.  In  these  circumstances  I 
displayed  the  two  chief  qualities  of  my  character  on  the 
largest  scale  —  my  helplessness  and  my  instinctive  love 
of  procrastination  —  and  fell  upon  a  course  of  action  so 
ridiculous  that  I  blush  when  I  recall  it. 

We  reached  Liverpool  one  forenoon,  the  rain  falling 
thickly  and  insidiously  on  the  filthy  town.  I  had  no 
plans,  beyond  a  sensible  unwillingness  to  let  my  rascal 
escape;  and  I  ended  by  going  to  the  same  inn  with  him, 
dining  with  him,  walking  with  him  in  the  wet  streets, 

351 


THE   WRECKER 

and  hearing  with  him  in  a  penny  gaff  that  venerable 
piece,  The  Tic ket-of- Leave  Man.  It  was  one  of  his  first 
visits  to  a  theatre,  against  which  places  of  entertainment 
he  had  a  strong  prejudice;  and  his  innocent,  pompous 
talk,  innocent  old  quotations,  and  innocent  reverence  for 
the  character  of  Hawkshaw  delighted  me  beyond  relief. 
In  charity  to  myself,  I  dwell  upon  and  perhaps  exagger- 
ate my  pleasures.  I  have  need  of  all  conceivable  excuses, 
when  I  confess  that  I  went  to  bed  without  one  word 
upon  the  matter  of  Carthew,  but  not  without  having 
covenanted  with  my  rascal  for  a  visit  to  Chester  the  next 
day.  At  Chester  we  did  the  cathedral,  walked  on  the 
walls,  discussed  Shakespeare  and  the  musical  glasses  — 
and  made  a  fresh  engagement  for  the  morrow.  I  do  not 
know,  and  I  am  glad  to  have  forgotten,  how  long  these 
travels  were  continued.  We  visited  at  least,  by  singular 
zigzags,  Stratford,  Warwick,  Coventry,  Gloucester,  Bris- 
tol, Bath,  and  Wells.  At  each  stage  we  spoke  dutifully 
of  the  scene  and  its  associations ;  I  sketched,  the  Shyster- 
spouted  poetry  and  copied  epitaphs.  Who  could  doubt 
we  were  the  usual  Americans,  traveling  with  a  design 
of  self-improvement  ?  Who  was  to  guess  that  one  was  a 
blackmailer,  trembling  to  approach  the  scene  of  action  — 
the  other  a  helpless,  amateur  detective,  waiting  on  events. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  remark  that  none  occurred,  or  none 
the  least  suitable  with  my  design  of  protecting  Carthew. 
Two  trifles,  indeed,  completed  though  they  scarcely 
changed  my  conception  of  the  Shyster.  The  first  was 
observed  in  Gloucester,  where  we  spent  Sunday,  and  I 
proposed  we  should  hear  service  in  the  cathedral.  To 
my  surprise,  the  creature  had  an  ism  of  his  own,  to 
which  he  was  loyal ;  and  he  left  me  to  go  alone  to  the 


TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

cathedral  —  or  perhaps  not  to  go  at  all  —  and  stole  off 
down  a  deserted  alley  to  some  Bethel  or  Ebenezer  of  the 
proper  shade.  When  we  met  again  at  lunch,  I  rallied 
him,  and  he  grew  restive. 

"  You  need  employ  no  circumlocutions  with  me,  Mr. 
Dodd,"  he  said,  suddenly.  "  You  regard  my  behaviour 
from  an  unfavourable  point  of  view :  you  regard  me,  I 
much  fear,  as  hypocritical." 

I  was  somewhat  confused  by  the  attack.  "You 
know  what  I  think  of  your  trade,"  1  replied,  lamely 
and  coarsely. 

"Excuse  me,  if  I  seem  to  press  the  subject,"  he  con- 
tinued, "but  if  you  think  my  life  erroneous,  would  you 
have  me  neglect  the  means  of  grace  ?  Because  you  con- 
sider me  in  the  wrong  on  one  point,  would  you  have  me 
place  myself  on  the  wrong  in  all  ?  Surely,  sir,  the  church 
is  for  the  sinner." 

"  Did  you  ask  a  blessing  on  your  present  enterprise?" 
1  sneered. 

He  had  a  bad  attack  of  St.  Vitus,  his  face  was  changed, 
and  his  eyes  flashed.  "I  will  tell  you  what  I  did! "  he 
cried.  ' '  I  prayed  for  an  unfortunate  man  and  a  wretched 
woman  whom  he  tries  to  support." 

I  cannot  pretend  that  I  found  any  repartee. 

The  second  incident  was  at  Bristol,  where  I  lost  sight 
of  my  gentleman  some  hours.  From  this  eclipse,  he 
returned  to  me  with  thick  speech,  wandering  footsteps, 
and  a  back  all  whitened  with  plaster.  I  had  half  ex- 
pected, yet  I  could  have  wept  to  see  it.  All  disabilities 
were  piled  on  that  weak  back  —  domestic  misfortune, 
nervous  disease,  a  displeasing  exterior,  empty  pockets, 
and  the  slavery  of  vice. 

353 


THE   WRECKER 

I  will  never  deny  that  our  prolonged  conjunction  was 
the  result  of  double  cowardice.  Each  was  afraid  to  leave 
the  other,  each  was  afraid  to  speak,  or  knew  not  what 
to  say.  Save  for  my  ill-judged  allusion  at  Gloucester, 
the  subject  uppermost  in  both  our  minds  was  buried. 
Carthew,  Stallbridge-le-Carthew,  Stallbridge-Minster  — 
which  we  had  long  since  (and  severally)  identified  to  be 
the  nearest  station  —  even  the  name  of  Dorsetshire  was 
studiously  avoided.  And  yet  we  were  making  progress 
all  the  time,  tacking  across  broad  England  like  an  un- 
weatherly  vessel  on  a  wind;  approaching  our  destina- 
tion, not  openly,  but  by  a  sort  of  flying  sap.  And  at 
length,  I  can  scarce  tell  how,  we  were  set  down  by  a 
dilatory  butt-end  of  local  train  on  the  untenanted  plat- 
form of  Stallbridge-Minster. 

The  town  was  ancient  and  compact:  a  domino  of  tiled 
houses  and  walled  gardens,  dwarfed  by  the  dispropor- 
tionate bigness  of  the  church.  From  the  midst  of  the 
thoroughfare  which  divided  it  in  half,  fields  and  trees 
were  visible  at  either  end ;  and  through  the  sally-port  of 
every  street,  there  flowed  in  from  the  country  a  silent 
invasion  of  green  grass.  Bees  and  birds  appeared  to 
make  the  majority  of  the  inhabitants;  every  garden  had 
its  row  of  hives,  the  eaves  of  every  house  were  plas- 
tered with  the  nests  of  swallows,  and  the  pinnacles  of 
the  church  were  flickered  about  all  day  long  by  a  multi- 
tude of  wings.  The  town  was  of  Roman  foundation  ; 
and  as  I  looked  out  that  afternoon  from  the  low  windows 
of  the  inn,  I  should  scarce  have  been  surprised  to  see  a 
centurion  coming  up  the  street  with  a  fatigue  draft  of 
legionaries.  In  short,  Stallbridge-Minster  was  one  of 
those  towns  which  appear  to  be  maintained  by  England 

354 


TRAVELS  WITH   A   SHYSTER 

for  the  instruction  and  delight  of  the  American  rambler; 
to  which  he  seems  guided  by  an  instinct  not  less  sur- 
prising than  the  setter's ;  and  which  he  visits  and  quits 
with  equal  enthusiasm. 

I  was  not  at  all  in  the  humour  of  the  tourist.  I  had 
wasted  weeks  of  time  and  accomplished  nothing;  we 
were  on  the  eve  of  the  engagement,  and  I  had  neither 
plans  nor  allies;  I  had  thrust  myself  into  the  trade  of 
private  providence  and  amateur  detective;  I  was  spend- 
ing money  and  I  was  reaping  disgrace.  All  the  time, 
I  kept  telling  myself  that  I  must  at  least  speak ;  that  this 
ignominious  silence  should  have  been  broken  long  ago, 
and  must  be  broken  now.  I  should  have  broken  it 
when  he  first  proposed  to  come  to  Stallbridge-Minster; 
I  should  have  broken  it  in  the  train ;  I  should  break  it 
there  and  then,  on  the  inn  doorstep,  as  the  omnibus 
rolled  off.  I  turned  toward  him  at  the  thought;  he 
seemed  to  wince,  the  words  died  on  my  lips,  and  I  pro- 
posed instead  that  we  should  visit  the  Minster. 

While  we  were  engaged  upon  this  duty,  it  came  on 
to  rain  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  tropics.  The  vault  re- 
verberated ;  every  gargoyle  instantly  poured  its  full  dis- 
charge; we  waded  back  to  the  inn,  ankle  deep  in 
impromptu  brooks;  and  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  sat 
weatherbound,  hearkening  to  the  sonorous  deluge.  For 
two  hours  I  talked  of  indifferent  matters,  laboriously 
feeding  the  conversation ;  for  two  hours  my  mind  was 
quite  made  up  to  do  my  duty  instantly  —  and  at  each 
particular  instant  I  postponed  it  till  the  next.  To  screw 
up  my  faltering  courage,  I  called  at  dinner  for  some 
sparkling  wine.  It  proved  when  it  came  to  be  detest- 
able; I  could  not  put  it  to  my  lips;  and  Bellairs,  who 

355 


THE  WRECKER 

had  as  much  palate  as  a  weevil,  was  left  to  finish  it  him- 
self. Doubtless  the  wine  flushed  him;  doubtless  he 
may  have  observed  my  embarrassment  of  the  afternoon ; 
doubtless  he  was  conscious  that  we  were  approaching 
a  crisis,  and  that  that  evening,  if  I  did  not  join  with  him, 
I  must  declare  myself  an  open  enemy.  At  least  he 
fled.  Dinner  was  done;  this  was  the  time  when  I 
had  bound  myself  to  break  my  silence;  no  more  delays 
were  to  be  allowed,  no  more  excuses  received.  I  went 
upstairs  after  some  tobacco;  which  I  felt  to  be  a  mere 
necessity  in  the  circumstances;  and  when  I  returned, 
the  man  was  gone.  The  waiter  told  me  he  had  left  the 
house. 

The  rain  still  plumped,  like  a  vast  shower-bath,  over 
the  deserted  town.  The  night  was  dark  and  windless : 
the  street  lit  glimmeringly  from  end  to  end,  lamps, 
house  windows,  and  the  reflections  in  the  rain-pools 
all  contributing.  From  a  public-house  on  the  other 
side  of  the  way,  I  heard  a  harp  twang  and  a  doleful 
voice  upraised  in  the  "Larboard  Watch,"  "The  An- 
chor's Weighed,"  and  other  naval  ditties.  Where  had 
my  Shyster  wandered  ?  In  all  likelihood  to  that  lyrical 
tavern;  there  was  no  choice  of  diversion;  in  compari- 
son with  Stallbridge-Minster  on  a  rainy  night,  a  sheep- 
fold  would  seem  gay. 

Again  I  passed  in  review  the  points  of  my  interview, 
on  which  I  was  always  constantly  resolved  so  long  as 
my  adversary  was  absent  from  the  scene:  and  again 
they  struck  me  as  inadequate.  From  this  dispiriting 
exercise  I  turned  to  the  native  amusements  of  the  inn 
coffee-room,  and  studied  for  some  time  the  mezzotints 
that  frowned  upon  the  wall.     The  railway  guide,  after 

356 


TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

showing  me  how  soon  I  could  leave  Stallbridge  and  how 
quickly  I  could  reach  Paris,  failed  to  hold  my  attention. 
An  illustrated  advertisement  book  of  hotels  brought  me 
very  low  indeed ;  and  when  it  came  to  the  local  paper, 
I  could  have  wept.  At  this  point,  I  found  a  passing- 
solace  in  a  copy  of  Whittaker's  Almanac,  and  obtained 
in  fifty  minutes  more  information  than  I  have  yet  been 
able  to  use. 

Then  a  fresh  apprehension  assailed  me.  Suppose 
Bellairs  had  given  me  the  slip  ?  suppose  he  was  now 
rolling  on  the  road  to  Stallbridge-le-Carthew  ?  or  per- 
haps there  already  and  laying  before  a  very  white-faced 
auditor  his  threats  and  propositions  ?  A  hasty  person 
might  have  instantly  pursued.  Whatever  I  am,  I  am 
not  hasty,  and  I  was  aware  of  three  grave  objections. 
In  the  first  place,  I  could  not  be  certain  that  Bellairs 
was  gone.  In  the  second,  I  had  no  taste  whatever 
for  a  long  drive  at  that  hour  of  the  night  and  in  so 
merciless  a  rain.  In  the  third,  I  had  no  idea  how  I 
was  to  get  admitted  if  I  went,  and  no  idea  what  I 
should  say  if  I  got  admitted.  "  In  short/'  I  concluded, 
"the  whole  situation  is  the  merest  farce.  You  have 
thrust  yourself  in  where  you  had  no  business  and  have 
no  power.  You  would  be  quite  as  useful  in  San  Fran- 
cisco ;  far  happier  in  Paris ;  and  being  (by  the  wrath  of 
God)  at  Stallbridge-Minster,  the  wisest  thing  is  to  go 
quietly  to  bed."  On  the  way  to  my  room,  I  saw  (in  a 
flash)  that  which  I  ought  to  have  done  long  ago,  and 
which  it  was  now  too  late  to  think  of —  written  to  Car- 
thew,  I  mean,  detailing  the  facts  and  describing  Bellairs, 
letting  him  defend  himself  if  he  were  able,  and  giving 
him  time  to  flee  if  he  were  not.     It  was  the  last  blow 

357 


THE  WRECKER 

to  my  self-respect;  and  I  flung  myself  into  my  bed 
with  contumely. 

I  have  no  guess  what  hour  it  was,  when  I  was 
wakened  by  the  entrance  of  Bellairs  carrying  a  candle. 
He  had  been  drunk,  for  he  was  bedaubed  with  mire 
from  head  to  foot;  but  he  was  now  sober  and  under  the 
empire  of  some  violent  emotion  which  he  controlled  with 
difficulty.  He  trembled  visibly;  and  more  than  once, 
during  the  interview  which  followed,  tears  suddenly  and 
silently  overflowed  his  cheeks. 

"I  have  to  ask  your  pardon,  sir,  for  this  untimely 
visit,"  he  said.  "I  make  no  defence,  I  have  no  excuse, 
I  have  disgraced  myself,  I  am  properly  punished;  I 
appear  before  you  to  appeal  to  you  in  mercy  for  the 
most  trifling  aid  or,  God  help  me!  I  fear  I  may  go 
mad." 

"  What  on  earth  is  wrong  ?  "  I  asked. 

"I  have  been  robbed,"  he  said.  "  I  have  no  defence 
to  offer;  it  was  of  my  own  fault,  I  am  properly  pun- 
ished." 

"  But,  gracious  goodness  me!  "  I  cried,  "who  is  there 
to  rob  you  in  a  place  like  this  ?  " 

"I  can  form  no  opinion,"  he  replied.  "I  have  no 
idea.  I  was  lying  in  a  ditch  inanimate.  This  is  a  de- 
grading confession,  sir;  I  can  only  say  in  self-defence 
that  perhaps  (in  your  good  nature)  you  have  made  your- 
self partly  responsible  for  my  shame.  I  am  not  used  to 
these  rich  wines." 

"  In  what  form  was  your  money  ?  Perhaps  it  may 
be  traced,"  I  suggested. 

"It  was  in  English  sovereigns.  I  changed  it  in  New 
York;  I  got  very  good  exchange,"  he  said,  and  then, 

358 


TRAVELS  WITH   A  SHYSTER 

with  a  momentary  outbreak,  "God  in  heaven,  how  I 
toiled  for  it!  "  he  cried. 

"That  doesn't  sound  encouraging,"  said  I.  "It  may 
be  worth  while  to  apply  to  the  police,  but  it  doesn't 
sound  a  hopeful  case." 

"  And  I  have  no  hope  in  that  direction,"  said  Bellairs. 
"My  hopes,  Mr.  Dodd,  are  all  fixed  upon  yourself.  I 
could  easily  convince  you  that  a  small,  a  very  small 
advance,  would  be  in  the  nature  of  an  excellent  invest- 
ment; but  I  prefer  to  rely  on  your  humanity.  Our  ac- 
quaintance began  on  an  unusual  footing;  but  you  have 
now  known  me  for  some  time,  we  have  been  some 
time  —  I  was  going  to  say  we  had  been  almost  intimate. 
Under  the  impulse  of  instinctive  sympathy,  I  have  bared 
my  heart  to  you,  Mr.  Dodd,  as  I  have  done  to  few;  and 
1  believe  —  I  trust  —  I  may  say  that  I  feel  sure  —  you 
heard  me  with  a  kindly  sentiment.  This  is  what  brings 
me  to  your  side  at  this  most  inexcusable  hour.  But  put 
yourself  in  my  place  —  how  could  I  sleep  —  how  could 
I  dream  of  sleeping,  in  this  blackness  of  remorse  and 
despair?  There  was  a  friend  at  hand  —  so  I  ventured 
to  think  of  you;  it  was  instinctive;  I  fled  to  your  side, 
as  the  drowning  man  clutches  at  a  straw.  These  ex- 
pressions are  not  exaggerated,  they  scarcely  serve  to- 
express  the  agitation  of  my  mind.  And  think,  sir,  how 
easily  you  can  restore  me  to  hope  and,  I  may  say,  to- 
reason.  A  small  loan,  which  shall  be  faithfully  repaid. 
Five  hundred  dollars  would  be  ample."  He  watched 
me  with  burning  eyes.  "Four  hundred  would  do.  I 
believe,  Mr.  Dodd,  that  I  could  manage  with  economy 
on  two." 

"And  then  you  will  repay  me  out  of  Carthew's 

359 


THE   WRECKER 

pocket?"  I  said.  "  I  am  much  obliged.  But  I  will  tell 
you  what  I  will  do :  I  will  see  you  on  board  a  steamer, 
pay  your  fare  through  to  San  Francisco,  and  place  fifty 
dollars  in  the  purser's  hands,  to  be  given  you  in  New 
York." 

He  drank  in  my  words;  his  face  represented  an  ec- 
stasy of  cunning  thought.  I  could  read  there,  plain  as 
print,  that  he  but  thought  to  overreach  me. 

"  And  what  am  I  to  do  in  'Frisco  ?"  he  asked.  "  I  am 
disbarred,  I  have  no  trade,  I  cannot  dig,  to  beg  —  "  he 
paused  in  the  citation.  "And  you  know  that  I  am  not 
alone,"  he  added,  "others  depend  upon  me." 

"I  will  write  to  Pinkerton,"  I  returned.  "I  feel  sure 
he  can  help  you  to  some  employment,  and  in  the  mean- 
time, and  for  three  months  after  your  arrival,  he  shall 
pay  to  yourself  personally,  on  the  first  and  the  fifteenth, 
twenty-five  dollars." 

"Mr.  Dodd,  I  scarce  believe  you  can  be  serious  in  this 
offer,"  he  replied.  "Have  you  forgotten  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case  ?  Do  you  know  these  people  are  the 
magnates  of  the  section  ?  They  were  spoken  of  to-night 
in  the  saloon;  their  wealth  must  amount  to  many  mil- 
lions of  dollars  in  real  estate  alone;  their  house  is  one  of 
the  sights  of  the  locality,  and  you  offer  me  a  bribe  of  a 
few  hundred!  " 

"I  offer  you  no  bribe,  Mr.  Bellairs,  I  give  you  alms,"  1 
returned.  ' '  I  will  do  nothing  to  forward  you  in  your  hate- 
ful business;  yet  I  would  not  willingly  have  you  starve. " 

"Give  me  a  hundred  dollars  then,  and  be  done  with 
it,"  he  cried. 

"I  will  do  what  I  have  said,  and  neither  more  nor 
less,"  said  I. 

360 


TRAVELS   WITH    A   SHYSTER 

"Take  care,"  he  cried.  "You  are  playing  a  fool's 
game ;  you  are  making  an  enemy  for  nothing ;  you  will 
gain  nothing  by  this,  I  warn  you  of  it !  "  And  then  with 
one  of  his  changes,  "Seventy  dollars  —  only  seventy  — 
in  mercy,  Mr.  Dodd,  in  common  charity.  Don't  dash 
the  bowl  from  my  lips !  You  have  a  kindly  heart.  Think 
of  my  position,  remember  my  unhappy  wife." 

' '  You  should  have  thought  of  her  before, "  said  I.  "I 
have  made  my  offer,  and  1  wish  to  sleep." 

"Is  that  your  last  word,  sir?  Pray  consider;  pray 
weigh  both  sides:  my  misery,  your  own  danger.  I 
warn  you  —  I  beseech  you ;  measure  it  well  before  you 
answer,"  so  he  half  pleaded,  half  threatened  me,  with 
clasped  hands. 

"  My  first  word,  and  my  last,"  said  I. 

The  change  upon  the  man  was  shocking.  In  the 
storm  of  anger  that  now  shook  him,  the  lees  of  his  in- 
toxication rose  again  to  the  surface;  his  face  was  de- 
formed, his  words  insane  with  fury;  his  pantomime, 
excessive  in  itself,  was  distorted  by  an  access  of  St. 
Vitus. 

"You  will  perhaps  allow  me  to  inform  you  of  my 
cold  opinion,"  he  began,  apparently  self-possessed,  truly 
bursting  with  rage :  "  when  I  am  a  glorified  saint,  I  shall 
see  you  howling  for  a  drop  of  water  and  exult  to  see 
you.  That  your  last  word!  Take  it  in  your  face,  you 
spy,  you  false  friend,  you  fat  hypocrite!  I  defy,  I  defy 
and  despise  and  spit  upon  you!  I'm  on  the  trail,  his 
trail  or  yours,  I  smell  blood,  I'll  follow  it  on  my  hands 
and  knees,  I'll  starve  to  follow  it!  I'll  hunt  you  down, 
hunt  you,  hunt  you  down!  If  I  were  strong,  I'd  tear 
your  vitals  out,  here  in  this  room  —  tear  them  out  —  I'd 

361 


THE  WRECKER 

tear  them  out!  Damn,  damn,  damn!  You  think  me 
weak  ?  I  can  bite,  bite  to  the  blood,  bite  you,  hurt  you, 
disgrace  you     .     .     ." 

He  was  thus  incoherently  raging,  when  the  scene  was 
interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  the  landlord  and  inn  ser- 
vants in  various  degrees  of  deshabille,  and  to  them  I 
gave  my  temporary  lunatic  in  charge. 

"  Take  him  to  his  room,"  I  said,  "  he's  only  drunk.' 
These  were  my  words ;  but  I  knew  better.     After  all 
my  study  of  Mr.  Bellairs,  one  discovery  had  been  re- 
served for  the  last  moment :  that  of  his  latent  and  essen- 
tial madness. 


362 


CHAPTER   XX 

STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

Long  before  I  was  awake,  the  shyster  had  disap- 
peared, leaving  his  bill  unpaid.  I  did  not  need  to  in- 
quire where  he  was  gone,  I  knew  too  well,  I  knew 
there  was  nothing  left  me  but  to  follow ;  and  about  ten 
in  the  morning,  set  forth  in  a  gig  for  Stalibridge-le- 
Carthew. 

The  road,  for  the  first  quarter  of  the  way,  deserts  the 
valtey  of  the  river,  and  crosses  the  summit  of  a  chalk- 
down,  grazed  over  by  flocks  of  sheep  and  haunted  by 
innumerable  larks.  It  was  a  pleasant  but  a  vacant  scene, 
arousing  but  not  holding  the  attention ;  and  my  mind 
returned  to  the  violent  passage  of  the  night  before.  My 
thought  of  the  man  I  was  pursuing  had  been  greatly 
changed.  I  conceived  of  him,  somewhere  in  front  of 
me,  upon  his  dangerous  errand,  not  to  be  turned  aside, 
not  to  be  stopped,  by  either  fear  or  reason.  I  had  called 
him  a  ferret;  I  conceived  him  now  as  a  mad  dog.  Me- 
thought  he  would  run,  not  walk;  methought,  as  he  ran, 
that  he  would  bark  and  froth  at  the  lips ;  methought,  if 
the  great  wall  of  China  were  to  rise  across  his  path,  he 
would  attack  it  with  his  nails. 

Presently  the  road  left  the  down,  returned  by  a  pre- 
cipitous descent  into  the  valley  of  the  Stall,  and  ran 

363 


THE   WRECKER 

thenceforward  among  enclosed  fields  and  under  the  con- 
tinuous shade  of  trees.  I  was  told  we  had  now  entered 
on  the  Carthew  property.  By  and  by,  a  battlemented 
wall  appeared  on  the  left  hand,  and  a  little  after  I  had 
my  first  glimpse  of  the  mansion.  It  stood  in  the  hollow 
of  a  bosky  park,  crowded  to  a  degree  that  surprised  and 
even  displeased  me,  with  huge  timber  and  dense  shrub- 
beries of  laurel  and  rhododendron.  Even  from  this  low 
station  and  the  thronging  neighbourhood  of  the  trees, 
the  pile  rose  conspicuous  like  a  cathedral.  Behind,  as 
we  continued  to  skirt  the  park  wall,  I  began  to  make 
out  a  straggling  town  of  offices  which  became  conjoined 
to  the  rear  with  those  of  the  home  farm.  On  the  left 
was  an  ornamental  water  sailed  in  by  many  swans.  On 
the  right  extended  a  flower  garden,  laid  in  the  old  man- 
ner, and  at  this  season  of  the  year,  as  brilliant  as  stained 
glass.  The  front  of  the  house  presented  a  facade  of  more 
than  sixty  windows,  surmounted  by  a  formal  pediment 
and  raised  upon  a  terrace.  A  wide  avenue,  part  in 
gravel,  part  in  turf,  and  bordered  by  triple  alleys,  ran  to 
the  great  double  gateways.  It  was  impossible  to  look 
without  surprise  on  a  place  that  had  been  prepared 
through  so  many  generations,  had  cost  so  many  tons  of 
minted  gold,  and  was  maintained  in  order  by  so  great 
a  company  of  emulous  servants.  And  yet  of  these  there 
was  no  sign  but  the  perfection  of  their  work.  The 
whole  domain  was  drawn  to  the  line  and  weeded  like 
the  front  plot  of  some  suburban  amateur;  and  I  looked 
in  vain  for  any  belated  gardener,  and  listened  in  vain  for 
any  sounds  of  labour.  Some  lowing  of  cattle  and  much 
calling  of  birds  alone  disturbed  the  stillness,  and  even 
the  little  hamlet,  which  clustered  at  the  gates,  appeared 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

to  hold  its  breath  in  awe  of  its  great  neighbour,  like  a 
troop  of  children  who  should  have  strayed  into  a  king's 
anteroom. 

The  Carthew  Arms,  the  small  but  very  comfortable 
inn,  was  a  mere  appendage  and  outpost  of  the  family 
whose  name  it  bore.  Engraved  portraits  of  by-gone 
Carthews  adorned  the  walls;  Fielding  Carthew,  Recorder 
of  the  city  of  London ;  Major-General  John  Carthew  in 
uniform,  commanding  some  military  operations;  the 
Right  Honourable  Bailley  Carthew,  Member  of  Parlia- 
ment for  Stallbridge,  standing  by  a  table  and  brandish- 
ing a  document;  Singleton  Carthew,  Esquire,  repre- 
sented in  the  foreground  of  a  herd  of  cattle  —  doubtless 
at  the  desire  of  his  tenantry  who  had  made  him  a  com- 
pliment of  this  work  of  art;  and  the  Venerable  Archdea- 
con Carthew,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  A.M.,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
head  of  a  little  child  in  a  manner  highly  frigid  and  ridicu- 
lous. So  far  as  my  memory  serves  me,  there  were  no 
other  pictures  in  this  exclusive  hostelry ;  and  I  was  not 
surprised  to  learn  that  the  landlord  was  an  ex-butler, 
the  landlady  an  ex-lady's-maid,  from  the  great  house; 
and  that  the  bar-parlour  was  a  sort  of  perquisite  of 
former  servants. 

To  an  American,  the  sense  of  the  domination  of  this 
family  over  so  considerable  tract  of  earth  was  even  op- 
pressive; and  as  I  considered  their  simple  annals,  gath- 
ered from  the  legends  of  the  engravings,  surprise  began 
to  mingle  with  my  disgust.  "Mr.  Recorder"  doubt- 
less occupies  an  honourable  post;  but  I  thought  that,  in 
the  course  of  so  many  generations,  one  Carthew  might 
have  clambered  higher.  The  soldier  had  stuck  at  Major- 
General;  the  churchmen  bloomed  unremarked  in  an 

3& 


THE  WRECKER 

archdiaconate :  and  though  the  Right  Honourable  Bail- 
ley  seemed  to  have  sneaked  into  the  privy  council,  I 
have  still  to  learn  what  he  did  when  he  had  got  there. 
Such  vast  means,  so  long  a  start,  and  such  a  modest 
standard  of  achievement,  struck  in  me  a  strong  sense 
of  the  dulness  of  that  race. 

I  found  that  to  come  to  the  hamlet  and  not  visit  the 
Hall,  would  be  regarded  as  a  slight.  To  feed  the  swans, 
to  see  the  peacocks  and  the  Raphaels  —  for  these  com- 
monplace people  actually  possessed  two  Raphaels  —  to 
risk  life  and  limb  among  a  famous  breed  of  cattle  called 
the  Carthew  Chillinghams,  and  to  do  homage  to  the  sire 
(still  living)  of  Donibristle,  a  renowned  winner  of  the 
Oaks :  these,  it  seemed,  were  the  inevitable  stations  of 
the  pilgrimage.  I  was  not  so  foolish  as  to  resist,  for  I 
might  have  need  before  I  was  done  of  general  good- 
will ;  and  two  pieces  of  news  fell  in  which  changed  my 
resignation  to  alacrity.  It  appeared  in  the  first  place, 
that  Mr.  Norris  was  from  home  "travelling";  in  the 
second,  that  a  visitor  had  been  before  me  and  already 
made  the  tour  of  the  Carthew  curiosities.  I  thought  I 
knew  who  this  must  be;  I  was  anxious  to  learn  what 
he  had  done  and  seen ;  and  fortune  so  far  favoured  me 
that  the  under-gardener  singled  out  to  be  my  guide 
had  already  performed  the  same  function  for  my  prede- 
cessor. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "an  American  gentleman  right 
enough.  At  least,  I  don't  think  he  was  quite  a  gentle- 
man, but  a  very  civil  person." 

The  person,  it  seems,  had  been  civil  enough  to  be 
delighted  with  the  Carthew  Chillinghams,  to  perform 
the  whole  pilgrimage  with  rising  admiration,  and  to 

366 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

have  almost  prostrated  himself  before  the  shrine  of 
Donibristle's  sire. 

"He  told  me,  sir,"  continued  the  gratified  under- 
gardener,  "  that  he  had  often  read  of  '  the  stately  'omes 
of  England,'  but  ours  was  the  first  he  had  the  chance  to 
see.  When  he  came  to  the  'ead  of  the  long  alley,  he 
fetched  his  breath.  '  This  is  indeed  a  lordly  domain ! ' 
he  cries.  And  it  was  natural  he  should  be  interested 
in  the  place,  for  it  seems  Mr.  Carthew  had  been 
kind  to  him  in  the  States.  In  fact,  he  seemed  a  grate- 
ful kind  of  person,  and  wonderful  taken  up  with 
flowers." 

I  heard  this  story  with  amazement.  The  phrases 
quoted  told  their  own  tale;  they  were  plainly  from  the 
shyster's  mint.  A  few  hours  back  I  had  seen  him  a 
mere  bedlamite  and  fit  for  a  strait- waistcoat;  he  was 
penniless  in  a  strange  country ;  it  was  highly  probable 
he  had  gone  without  breakfast;  the  absence  of  Norris 
must  have  been  a  crushing  blow ;  the  man  (by  all  reason) 
should  have  been  despairing.  And  now  I  heard  of  him, 
clothed  and  in  his  right  mind,  deliberate,  insinuating, 
admiring  vistas,  smelling  flowers,  and  talking  like  a 
book.  The  strength  of  character  implied  amazed  and 
daunted  me. 

"This  is  curious,"  I  said  to  the  under-gardener.  "I 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  some  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Carthew  myself;  and  I  believe  none  of  our  western 
friends  ever  were  in  England.  Who  can  this  person  be  ? 
He  couldn't  —  no,  that's  impossible,  he  could  never 
have  had  the  impudence.     His  name  was  not  Bellairs  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  'ear  the  name,  sir.  Do  you  know  anything 
against  him  ?  "  cried  my  guide. 

3*7 


THE   WRECKER 

"Well,"  said  I,  "he  is  certainly  not  the  person  Car- 
thew  would  like  to  have  here  in  his  absence." 

' '  Good  gracious  me !  "  exclaimed  the  gardener.  ' '  He 
was  so  pleasant  spoken,  too ;  I  thought  he  was  some 
form  of  a  schoolmaster.  Perhaps,  sir,  you  wouldn't 
mind  going  right  up  to  Mr.  Denman  ?  I  recommended 
him  to  Mr.  Denman,  when  he  had  done  the  grounds. 
Mr.  Denman  is  our  butler,  sir,"  he  added. 

The  proposal  was  welcome,  particularly  as  affording 
me  a  graceful  retreat  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Carthew  Chillinghams;  and,  giving  up  our  projected 
circuit,  we  took  a  short  cut  through  the  shrubbery  and 
across  the  bowling  green  to  the  back  quarters  of  the 
Hall. 

The  bowling  green  was  surrounded  by  a  great  hedge 
of  yew,  and  entered  by  an  archway  in  the  quick.  As 
we  were  issuing  from  this  passage,  my  conductor  ar- 
rested me. 

"The  Honourable  Lady  Ann  Carthew,"  he  said,  in 
an  august  whisper.  And  looking  over  his  shoulder,  I 
was  aware  of  an  old  lady  with  a  stick,  hobbling  some- 
what briskly  along  the  garden  path.  She  must  have 
been  extremely  handsome  in  her  youth ;  and  even  the 
limp  with  which  she  walked  could  not  deprive  her  of 
an  unusual  and  almost  menacing  dignity  of  bearing. 
Melancholy  was  impressed  besides  on  every  feature, 
and  her  eyes,  as  she  looked  straight  before  her,  seemed 
to  contemplate  misfortune. 

"  She  seems  sad,"  said  I,  when  she  had  hobbled  past 
and  we  had  resumed  our  walk. 

"She  enjoy  rather  poor  spirits,  sir,"  responded  the 
under-gardener.     "Mr.  Carthew  —  the  old  gentleman, 

36$ 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

I  mean  —  died  less  than  a  year  ago;  Lord  Tillibody,  her 
ladyships  brother,  two  months  after;  and  then  there  was 
the  sad  business  about  the  young  gentleman.  Killed 
in  the  'unting-field,  sir;  and  her  ladyship's  favourite. 
The  present  Mr.  Norris  has  never  been  so  equally." 

"So  I  have  understood,"  said  I,  persistently,  and  (1 
think)  gracefully  pursuing  my  inquiries  and  fortifying 
my  position  as  a  family  friend.  "  Dear,  dear,  how  sad! 
And  has  this  change  —  poor  Carthew's  return,  and  all 
—  has  this  not  mended  matters  ?  " 

"Well,  no,  sir,  not  a  sign  of  it,"  was  the  reply. 
"Worse,  we  think,  than  ever." 

"Dear,  dear!  "  said  I,  again. 

' '  When  Mr.  Norris  arrived,  she  did  seem  glad  to  see 
him,"  he  pursued;  "and  we  were  all  pleased,  I'm  sure; 
for  no  one  knows  the  young  gentleman  but  what  likes 
him.  Ah,  sir,  it  didn't  last  long!  That  very  night  they 
had  a  talk,  and  fell  out  or  something;  her  ladyship  took 
on  most  painful ;  it  was  like  old  days,  but  worse.  And 
the  next  morning  Mr.  Norris  was  off  again  upon  his 
travels.  '  Denman,'  he  said  to  Mr.  Denman,  '  Denman, 
I'll  never  come  back,'  he  said,  and  shook  him  by  the 
'and.  I  wouldn't  be  saying  all  this  to  a  stranger,  sir," 
added  my  informant,  overcome  with  a  sudden  fear  lest 
he  had  gone  too  far. 

He  had  indeed  told  me  much,  and  much  that  was  un- 
suspected by  himself.  On  that  stormy  night  of  his  re- 
turn, Carthew  had  told  his  story ;  the  old  lady  had  more 
upon  her  mind  than  mere  bereavements;  and  among 
the  mental  pictures  on  which  she  looked,  as  she  walked 
staring  down  the  path,  was  one  of  Midway  Island  and 
the  Flying  Scud. 

369 


THE  WRECKER 

Mr.  Denman  heard  my  inquiries  with  discomposure, 
but  informed  me  the  shyster  was  already  gone. 

"Gone?"  cried  I.  "Then  what  can  he  have  come 
for?  One  thing  I  can  tell  you;  it  was  not  to  see  the 
house." 

"  I  don't  see  it  could  have  been  anything  else,"  replied 
the  butler. 

"You  may  depend  upon  it  it  was,"  said  I.  "And 
whatever  it  was,  he  has  got  it.  By  the  way,  where  is 
Mr.  Carthew  at  present?  I  was  sorry  to  find  he  was 
from  home." 

"  He  is  engaged  in  travelling,  sir,"  replied  the  butler, 
dryly. 

"  Ah,  bravo!  "  cried  I.  "  I  laid  a  trap  for  you  there, 
Mr.  Denman.  Now  I  need  not  ask  you;  I  am  sure  you 
did  not  tell  this  prying  stranger." 

"To  be  sure  not,  sir,"  said  the  butler. 

I  went  through  the  form  of  "shaking  him  by  the 
'and"  —  like  Mr.  Norris  —  not,  however,  with  genuine 
enthusiasm.  For  I  had  failed  ingloriously  to  get  the 
address  for  myself;  and  I  felt  a  sure  conviction  that  Bel- 
lairs  had  done  better,  or  he  had  still  been  here  and  still 
cultivating  Mr.  Denman. 

I  had  escaped  the  grounds  and  the  cattle;  I  could  not 
escape  the  house.  A  lady  with  silver  hair,  a  slender 
silver  voice,  and  a  stream  of  insignificant  information 
not  to  be  diverted,  led  me  through  the  picture  gallery, 
the  music-room,  the  great  dining-room,  the  long  draw- 
ing-room, the  Indian  room,  the  theatre,  and  every  corner 
(as  I  thought)  of  that  interminable  mansion.  There  was 
but  one  place  reserved ;  the  garden-room,  whither  Lady 
Ann  had  now  retired.     I  paused  a  moment  on  the  out- 

370 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

side  of  the  door,  and  smiled  to  myself.  The  situation 
was  indeed  strange,  and  these  thin  boards  divided  the 
secret  of  the  Flying  Scud. 

All  the  while,  as  I  went  to  and  fro,  I  was  considering 
the  visit  and  departure  of  Bellairs.  That  he  had  got  the 
address,  I  was  quite  certain :  that  he  had  not  got  it  by 
direct  questioning,  I  was  convinced;  some  ingenuity, 
some  lucky  accident,  had  served  him.  A  similar  chance, 
an  equal  ingenuity,  was  required;  or  I  was  left  helpless, 
the  ferret  must  run  down  his  prey,  the  great  oaks  fall, 
the  Raphaels  be  scattered,  the  house  let  to  some  stock- 
broker suddenly  made  rich,  and  the  name  which  now 
filled  the  mouths  of  five  or  six  parishes  dwindle  to  a 
memory.  Strange  that  such  great  matters,  so  old  a 
mansion,  a  family  so  ancient  and  so  dull,  should  come 
to  depend  for  perpetuity  upon  the  intelligence,  the  dis- 
cretion, and  the  cunning  of  a  Latin-Quarter  student! 
What  Bellairs  had  done,  I  must  do  likewise.  Chance  or 
ingenuity,  ingenuity  or  chance  —  so  I  continued  to  ring 
the  changes  as  I  walked  away  down  the  avenue,  casting 
back  occasional  glances  at  the  red  brick  facade  and  the 
twinkling  windows  of  the  house.  How  was  I  to  com- 
mand chance  ?  where  was  I  to  find  the  ingenuity  ? 

These  reflections  brought  me  to  the  door  of  the  inn. 
And  here,  pursuant  to  my  policy  of  keeping  well  with 
all  men,  I  immediately  smoothed  my  brow,  and  accepted 
(being  the  only  guest  in  the  house)  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  the  family  in  the  bar-parlour.  I  sat  down  accord- 
ingly with  Mr.  Higgs  the  ex-butler,  Mrs.  Higgs  the  ex- 
lady's-maid,  and  Miss  Agnes  Higgs,  their  frowsy-headed 
little  girl,  the  least  promising  and  (as  the  event  showed) 
the  most  useful  of  the  lot.     The  talk  ran  endlessly  on  the 

37> 


THE   WRECKER 

great  house  and  the  great  family;  the  roast  beef,  the 
Yorkshire  pudding,  the  jam-roll,  and  the  cheddar  cheese 
came  and  went,  and  still  the  stream  flowed  on ;  near- 
four  generations  of  Carthews  were  touched  upon  without 
eliciting  one  point  of  interest;  and  we  had  killed  Mr. 
Henry  in  "the  unting  field,"  with  a  vast  elaboration  of 
painful  circumstance,  and  buried  him  in  the  midst  of  a 
whole  sorrowing  county,  before  I  could  so  much  as 
manage  to  bring  upon  the  stage  my  intimate  friend,  Mr. 
Norris.  At  the  name,  the  ex-butler  grew  diplomatic, 
and  the  ex-lady's-maid  tender.  He  was  the  only  person 
of  the  whole  featureless  series  who  seemed  to  have  ac- 
complished anything  worth  mention ;  and  his  achieve- 
ments, poor  dog,  seemed  to  have  been  confined  to  going 
to  the  devil  and  leaving  some  regrets.  He  had  been  the 
image  of  the  Right  Honourable  Bailley,  one  of  the  lights 
of  that  dim  house,  and  a  career  of  distinction  had  been 
predicted  of  him  in  consequence  almost  from  the  cradle. 
But  before  he  was  out  of  long  clothes,  the  cloven  foot 
began  to  show ;  he  proved  to  be  no  Carthew,  developed 
a  taste  for  low  pleasures  and  bad  company,  went  birds- 
nesting  with  a  stable-boy  before  he  was  eleven,  and 
when  he  was  near  twenty,  and  might  have  been  ex- 
pected to  display  at  least  some  rudiments  of  the  family 
gravity,  rambled  the  county  over  with  a  knapsack,  mak- 
ing sketches  and  keeping  company  in  wayside  inns. 
He  had  no  pride  about  him,  I  was  told;  he  would  sit 
down  with  any  man ;  and  it  was  somewhat  woundingly 
implied  that  I  was  indebted  to  this  peculiarity  for  my 
own  acquaintance  with  the  hero.  Unhappily,  Mr.  Nor- 
ris was  not  only  eccentric,  he  was  fast.  His  debts  were 
still  remembered  at  the  University;  still  more,  it  ap- 

372 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

peared,  the  highly  humorous  circumstances  attending 
his  expulsion.  * '  He  was  always  fond  of  his  jest, "  com- 
mented Mrs.  Higgs. 

"That  he  were!  "  observed  her  lord. 

But  it  was  after  he  went  into  the  diplomatic  service 
that  the  real  trouble  began. 

"  It  seems,  sir,  that  he  went  the  pace  extraordinary," 
said  the  ex-butler,  with  a  solemn  gusto. 

"His  debts  were  somethink  awful,"  said  the  lady's- 
maid.  'And  as  nice  a  young  gentleman  all  the  time 
as  you  would  wish  to  see!  " 

"When  word  came  to  Mr.  Carthew's  ears,  the  turn 
up  was  'orrible,"  continued  Mr.  Higgs.  "1  remember 
it  as  if  it  was  yesterday.  The  bell  was  rung  after  her 
la'ship  was  gone,  which  1  answered  it  myself,  suppos- 
ing it  were  the  coffee.  There  was  Mr.  Carthew  on  his 
feet.  "Iggs,'  he  says,  pointing  with  his  stick,  for  he 
had  a  turn  of  the  gout,  '  order  the  dog-cart  instantly  for 
this  son  of  mine  which  has  disgraced  hisself.'  Mr.  Nor- 
ris  say  nothink :  he  sit  there  with  his  'ead  down,  mak- 
ing belief  to  be  looking  at  a  walnut.  You  might  have 
bowled  me  over  with  a  straw,"  said  Mr.  Higgs. 

"  Had  he  done  anything  very  bad  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Not  he,  Mr.  Dodsley!"  cried  the  lady  —  it  was  so 
she  had  conceived  my  name.  "He  never  did  anythink 
to  all  really  wrong  in  his  poor  life.  The  'ole  affair  was 
a  disgrace,     it  was  all  rank  favouritising. " 

"Mrs.  'Iggs!  Mrs.  Iggs!"  cried  the  butler  warningly. 

"Well,  what  do  1  care?"  retorted  the  lady,  shaking 
her  ringlets.  "You  know  it  was  yourself,  Mr.  'Iggs, 
and  so  did  every  member  of  the  staff." 

While  I  was  getting  these  facts  and  opinions,  I  by  no 
373 


THE  WRECKER 

means  neglected  the  child.  She  was  not  attractive;  but 
fortunately  she  had  reached  the  corrupt  age  of  seven, 
when  half  a  crown  appears  about  as  large  as  a  saucer 
and  is  fully  as  rare  as  the  dodo.  For  a  shilling  down, 
sixpence  in  her  money-box,  and  an  American  gold  dol- 
lar which  I  happened  to  find  in  my  pocket,  I  bought  the 
creature  soul  and  body.  She  declared  her  intention  to 
accompany  me  to  the  ends  of  the  earth;  and  had  to  be 
chidden  by  her  sire  for  drawing  comparisons  between 
myself  and  her  Uncle  William,  highly  damaging  to  the 
latter. 

Dinner  was  scarce  done,  the  cloth  was  not  yet  re- 
moved, when  Miss  Agnes  must  needs  climb  into  my  lap 
with  her  stamp  album,  a  relic  of  the  generosity  of  Uncle 
William.  There  are  few  things  I  despise  more  than  old 
stamps,  unless  perhaps  it  be  crests ;  for  cattle  (from  the 
Carthew  Chillinghams  down  to  the  old  gate-keeper's 
milk  cow  in  the  lane)  contempt  is  far  from  being  my 
first  sentiment.  But  it  seemed  I  was  doomed  to  pass 
that  day  in  viewing  curiosities,  and  smothering  a  yawn, 
I  devoted  myself  once  more  to  tread  the  well-known 
round.  I  fancy  Uncle  William  must  have  begun  the 
collection  himself  and  tired  of  it,  for  the  book  (to  my 
surprise)  was  quite  respectably  filled.  There  were  the 
varying  shades  of  the  English  penny,  Russians  with  the 
coloured  heart,  old  undecipherable  Thurn-und-Taxis, 
obsolete  triangular  Cape  of  Good  Hopes,  Swan  Rivers 
with  the  Swan,  and  Guianas  with  the  sailing  ship. 
Upon  all  these  I  looked  with  the  eyes  of  a  fish  and  the 
spirit  of  a  sheep;  I  think  indeed  I  was  at  times  asleep; 
and  it  was  probably  in  one  of  these  moments  that  I  cap- 
sized the  album,  and  there  fell  from  the  end  of  it,  upon 

374 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

the  floor,  a  considerable  number  of  what  I  believe  to  be 
called  "  exchanges." 

Here,  against  all  probability,  my  chance  had  come  to 
me;  for  as  I  gallantly  picked  them  up,  I  was  struck  with 
the  disproportionate  amount  of  five-sous  French  stamps. 
Some  one,  I  reasoned,  must  write  very  regularly  from 
France  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Stallbridge-le-Carthew. 
Could  it  be  Norris  ?  On  one  stamp  I  made  out  an  ini- 
tial C ;  upon  a  second  I  got  as  far  as  C  H ;  beyond  which 
point,  the  postmark  used  was  in  every  instance  unde- 
cipherable. C  H,  when  you  consider  that  about  a  quar- 
ter of  the  towns  in  France  begin  with  "chateau," 
was  an  insufficient  clue;  and  I  promptly  annexed  the 
plainest  of  the  collection  in  order  to  consult  the  post- 
office. 

The  wretched  infant  took  me  in  the  fact.  "Naughty 
man,  to  'teal  my  'tamp!  "  she  cried;  and  when  I  would 
have  brazened  it  off  with  a  denial,  recovered  and  dis- 
played the  stolen  article. 

My  position  was  now  highly  false :  and  I  believe  it 
was  in  mere  pity  that  Mrs.  Higgs  came  to  my  rescue 
with  a  welcome  proposition.  If  the  gentleman  was 
really  interested  in  stamps,  she  said,  probably  suppos- 
ing me  a  monomaniac  on  the  point,  he  should  see  Mr. 
Denman's  album.  Mr.  Denman  had  been  collecting 
forty  years,  and  his  collection  was  said  to  be  worth  a 
mint  of  money.  ' '  Agnes, "  she  went  on,  ' '  if  you  were 
a  kind  little  girl,  you  would  run  over  to  the  'All,  tell  Mr. 
Denman  there's  a  connaisseer  in  the  'ouse,  and  ask  him 
if  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  might  bring  the  album 
down." 

"I  should  like  to  see  his  exchanges  too,"  I  cried,  ris- 
3?5 


THE   WRECKER. 

ing  to  the  occasion.  "  I  may  have  some  of  mine  in  my 
pocket-book  and  we  might  trade." 

Half  an  hour  later,  Mr.  Denman  arrived  himself  with 
a  most  unconscionable  volume  under  his  arm.  "Ah, 
sir,"  he  cried,  "when  I  'eard  you  was  a  collector,  1 
dropped  all.  It's  a  saying  of  mine,  Mr.  Dodsley,  that 
collecting  stamps  makes  all  collectors  kin.  It's  a  bond, 
sir;  it  creates  a  bond." 

Upon  the  truth  of  this,  I  cannot  say;  but  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  attempt  to  pass  yourself  off  for  a  collec- 
tor falsely  creates  a  precarious  situation. 

"Ah,  here's  the  second  issue!"  I  would  say,  after 
consulting  the  legend  at  the  side.  "The  pink  —  no,  I 
mean  the  mauve  —  yes,  that's  the  beauty  of  this  lot. 
Though  of  course,  as  you  say,"  I  would  hasten  to  add, 
"this  yellow  on  the  thin  paper  is  more  rare." 

Indeed  I  must  certainly  have  been  detected,  had  I  not 
plied  Mr.  Denman  in  self-defence  with  his  favourite 
liquor  —  a  port  so  excellent  that  it  could  never  have 
ripened  in  the  cellar  of  the  Carthew  Arms,  but  must 
have  been  transported,  under  cloud  of  night,  from  the 
neighbouring  vaults  of  the  great  house.  At  each  threat 
of  exposure,  and  in  particular  whenever  I  was  directly 
challenged  for  an  opinion,  I  made  haste  to  fill  the  but- 
ler's glass,  and  by  the  time  we  had  got  to  the  exchanges, 
he  was  in  a  condition  in  which  no  stamp  collector  need 
be  seriously  feared.  God  forbid  I  should  hint  that  he 
was  drunk ;  he  seemed  incapable  of  the  necessary  liveli- 
ness; but  the  man's  eyes  were  set,  and  so  long  as  he 
was  suffered  to  talk  without  interruption,  he  seemed 
careless  of  my  heeding  him. 

In  Mr.  Denman's  exchanges,  as  in  those  of  little 
376 


STALLBRIDGE-LE-CARTHEW 

Agnes,  the  same  peculiarity  was  to  be  remarked,  an  un- 
due preponderance  of  that  despicably  common  stamp, 
the  French  twenty-five  centimes.  And  here  joining 
them  in  stealthy  review,  1  found  the  C  and  the  C  H ; 
then  something  of  an  A  just  following;  and  then  a  ter- 
minal Y.  Here  was  almost  the  whole  name  spelled  out 
to  me;  it  seemed  familiar,  too;  and  yet  for  some  time  I 
could  not  bridge  the  imperfection.  Then  I  came  upon 
another  stamp,  in  which  an  L  was  legible  before  the  Y, 
and  in  a  moment  the  word  leaped  up  complete.  Chailly, 
that  was  the  name;  Chailly-en-Biere,  the  post  town  of 
Barbizon  —  ah,  there  was  the  very  place  for  any  man  to 
hide  himself —  there  was  the  very  place  for  Mr.  Norris, 
who  had  rambled  over  England  making  sketches  —  the 
very  place  for  Goddedaal,  who  had  left  a  palette-knife 
on  board  the  Flying  Send.  Singular,  indeed,  that  while 
1  was  drifting  over  England  with  the  shyster,  the  man 
we  were  in  quest  of  awaited  me  at  my  own  ultimate 
destination. 

Whether  Mr.  Denman  had  shown  his  album  to  Bel- 
lairs,  whether,  indeed,  Bellairs  could  have  caught  (as  I 
did)  this  hint  from  an  obliterated  postmark,  I  shall  never 
know,  and  it  mattered  not.  We  were  equal  now;  my 
task  at  Stallbridge-le-Carthew  was  accomplished;  my 
interest  in  postage-stamps  died  shamelessly  away ;  the 
astonished  Denman  was  bowed  out;  and  ordering  the 
horse  to  be  put  in,  I  plunged  into  the  study  of  the  time- 
table. 


377 


CHAPTER  XXI 

FACE   TO   FACE 

I  fell  from  the  skies  on  Barbizon  about  two  o'clock 
of  a  September  afternoon.  It  is  the  dead  hour  of  the 
day ;  all  the  workers  have  gone  painting,  all  the  idlers 
strolling,  in  the  forest  or  the  plain ;  the  winding  cause- 
wayed street  is  solitary,  and  the  inn  deserted.  I  was 
the  more  pleased  to  find  one  of  my  old  companions  in 
the  dining-room;  his  town  clothes  marked  him  for  a 
man  in  the  act  of  departure;  and  indeed  his  portman- 
teau lay  beside  him  on  the  floor. 

"Why,  Stennis,"  I  cried,  "you're  the  last  man  I  ex- 
pected to  find  here." 

"  You  won't  find  me  here  long,"  he  replied.  "King 
Pandion  he  is  dead;  all  his  friends  are  lapped  in  lead. 
For  men  of  our  antiquity,  the  poor  old  shop  is  played 
out." 

"I  have  had  playmates,  I  have  had  companions,"  I 
quoted  in  return.  We  were  both  moved,  I  think,  to 
meet  again  in  this  scene  of  our  old  pleasure  parties  so 
unexpectedly,  after  so  long  an  interval,  and  both  already 
so  much  altered. 

"That  is  the  sentiment,"  he  replied.  "All,  all  are 
gone,  the  old  familiar  faces.  I  have  been  here  a  week, 
and  the  only  living  creature  who  seemed  to  recollect  me 

378 


FACE  TO   FACE 

was  the  Pharaon.  Bar  the  Sirons,  of  course,  and  the 
perennial  Bodmer." 

"Is  there  no  survivor?"  I  inquired. 

"Of  our  geological  epoch?  not  one,"  he  replied. 
"This  is  the  city  of  Petra  in  Edom." 

"And  what  sort  of  Bedouins  encamp  among  the 
ruins  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Youth,  Dodd,  youth;  blooming,  conscious  youth," 
he  returned.  "  Such  a  gang,  such  reptiles!  to  think  we 
were  like  that!  I  wonder  Siron  didn't  sweep  us  from 
his  premises." 

"  Perhaps  we  weren't  so  bad,"  I  suggested. 

"Don't  let  me  depress  you,"  said  he.  "We  were 
both  Anglo-Saxons,  anyway,  and  the  only  redeeming 
feature  to-day  is  another." 

The  thought  of  my  quest,  a  moment  driven  out  by 
this  rencounter,  revived  in  my  mind.  "Who  is  he?" 
I  cried.     "Tell  me  about  him." 

"  What,  the  Redeeming  Feature  ?"  said  he.  "Well, 
he's  a  very  pleasing  creature,  rather  dim,  and  dull,  and 
genteel,  but  really  pleasing.  He  is  very  British,  though, 
the  artless  Briton !  Perhaps  you'll  find  him  too  much 
so  for  the  transatlantic  nerves.  Come  to  think  of  it,  on 
the  other  hand,  you  ought  to  get  on  famously.  He  is 
an  admirer  of  your  great  republic  in  one  of  its  (excuse 
me)  shoddiest  features;  he  takes  in  and  sedulously  reads 
a  lot  of  American  papers.  I  warned  you  he  was  art- 
less." 

"What  papers  are  they  ?"  cried  I. 

"San  Francisco  papers."  said  he.  "He  gets  a  bale 
of  them  about  twice  a  week,  and  studies  them  like  the 
Bible.     That's  one  of  his  weaknesses ;  another  is  to  be 

379 


THE   WRECKER        * 

incalculably  rich.  He  has  taken  Masson's  old  studio 
—  you  remember? — at  the  corner  of  the  road;  he  has 
furnished  it  regardless  of  expense,  and  lives  there  sur- 
rounded with  vins  fins  and  works  of  art.  When  the 
youth  of  to-day  goes  up  to  the  Caverne  des  Brigands 
to  make  punch  —  they  do  all  that  we  did,  like  some 
nauseous  form  of  ape  (I  never  appreciated  before  what 
a  creature  of  tradition  mankind  is) — this  Madden  fol- 
lows with  a  basket  of  champagne.  I  told  them  he  was 
wrong,  and  the  punch  tasted  better;  but  he  thought  the 
boys  liked  the  style  of  the  thing,  and  I  suppose  they  do. 
He  is  a  very  good-natured  soul,  and  very  melancholy, 
and  rather  a  helpless.  O,  and  he  has  a  third  weakness 
which  I  came  near  forgetting.  He  paints.  He  has 
never  been  taught,  and  he's  past  thirty,  and  he  paints." 

"How?"  I  asked. 

"  Rather  well,  I  think,"  was  the  reply.  "That's  the 
annoying  part  of  it.    See  for  yourself.    That  panel  is  his. " 

1  stepped  toward  the  window.  .  It  was  the  old  famil- 
iar room,  with  the  tables  set  like  a  Greek  P,  and  the 
sideboard,  and  the  aphasiac  piano,  and  the  panels  on 
the  wall.  There  were  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Antwerp  from 
the  river,  Enfield's  ships  among  the  ice,  and  the  huge 
huntsman  winding  a  huge  horn ;  mingled  with  them  a 
few  new  ones,  the  thin  crop  of  a  succeeding  generation, 
not  better  and  not  worse.  It  was  to  one  of  these  I 
was  directed;  a  thing  coarsely  and  wittily  handled, 
mostly  with  the  palette-knife,  the  colour  in  some  parts 
excellent,  the  canvas  in  others  loaded  with  mere  clay. 
But  it  was  the  scene,  and  not  the  art  or  want  of  it,  that 
riveted  my  notice.  The  foreground  was  of  sand  and 
scrub  and  wreckwood ;  in  the  middle  distance  the  many- 

380 


FACE   TO    FACE 

hued  and  smooth  expanse  of  a  lagoon,  enclosed  by  a 
wall  of  breakers;  beyond,  a  blue  strip  of  ocean.  The 
sky  was  cloudless,  and  I  could  hear  the  surf  break.  For' 
the  place  was  Midway  Island;  the  point  of  view  the 
very  spot  at  which  I  had  landed  with  the  captain  for 
the  first  time,  and  from  which  I  had  re-embarked  the 
day  before  we  sailed.  I  had  already  been  gazing  for 
some  seconds,  before  my  attention  was  arrested  by 
a  blur  on  the  sea-line;  and  stooping  to  look,  I  recog- 
nised the  smoke  of  a  steamer. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  turning  towards  Stennis,  "  it  has  merit. 
What  is  it  ?  " 

' '  A  fancy  piece, "  he  returned.  ' '  That's  what  pleased 
me.  So  few  of  the  fellows  in  our  time  had  the  imagina- 
tion of  a  garden  snail." 

"  Madden,  you  say  his  name  is  ?"  I  pursued. 

"  Madden,"  he  repeated. 

"  Has  he  travelled  much  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  I  haven't  an  idea.  He  is  one  of  the  least  autobio- 
graphical of  men.  He  sits,  and  smokes,  and  giggles, 
.ind  sometimes  he  makes  small  jests ;  but  his  contribu- 
tions to  the  art  of  pleasing  are  generally  confined  to 
looking  like  a  gentleman  and  being  one.  No,"  added 
Stennis,  "he'll  never  suit  you,  Dodd;  you  like  more 
head  on  your  liquor.  You'll  find  him  as  dull  as  ditch 
water." 

"Has  he  big  blond  side-whiskers  like  tusks?"  1 
asked,  mindful  of  the  photograph  of  Goddedaal. 

"Certainly  not:  why  should  he?"  was  the  reply. 

"Does  he  write  many  letters  ? "  I  continued. 

"God  knows," says  Stennis.  "  What  is  wrong  with 
you  ?    I  never  saw  you  taken  this  way  before." 

381 


THE  WRECKER 

"The  fact  is,  I  think  I  know  the  man,"  said  I.  "I 
think  I'm  looking  for  him.  I  rather  think  he  is  my  long- 
lost  brother." 

"Not  twins,  anyway," returned  Stennis. 

And  about  the  same  time,  a  carriage  driving  up  to  the 
inn,  he  took  his  departure. 

I  walked  till  dinner-time  in  the  plain,  keeping  to  the 
fields ;  for  I  instinctively  shunned  observation,  and  was 
racked  by  many  incongruous  and  impatient  feelings. 
Here  was  a  man  whose  voice  I  had  once  heard,  whose 
doings  had  filled  so  many  days  of  my  life  with  interest 
and  distress,  whom  I  had  lain  awake  to  dream  of  like  a 
lover;  and  now  his  hand  was  on  the  door;  now  we  were 
to  meet;  now  I  was  to  learn  at  last  the  mystery  of  the 
substituted  crew.  The  sun  went  down  over  the  plain 
of  the  Angelus,  and  as  the  hour  approached,  my  courage 
lessened.  I  let  the  laggard  peasants  pass  me  on  the 
homeward  way.  The  lamps  were  lit,  the  soup  was 
served,  the  company  were  all  at  table,  and  the  room 
sounded  already  with  multitudinous  talk  before  I  entered. 
I  took  my  place  and  found  I  was  opposite  to  Madden. 
Over  six  feet  high  and  well  set  up,  the  hair  dark  and 
streaked  with  silver,  the  eyes  dark  and  kindly,  the  mouth 
very  good-natured,  the  teeth  admirable;  linen  and  hands 
exquisite;  English  clothes,  an  English  voice,  an  English 
bearing:  the  man  stood  out  conspicuous  from  the  com- 
pany. Yet  he  had  made  himself  at  home,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  a  certain  quiet  popularity  among  the  noisy  boys 
of  the  table  d'hote.  He  had  an  odd,  silver  giggle  of  a 
laugh,  that  sounded  nervous  even  when  he  was  really 
amused,  and  accorded  ill  with  his  big  stature  and  manly, 
melancholy  face.     This  laugh  fell  in   continually  all 

382 


FACE  TO   FACE 

through  dinner  like  the  note  of  the  triangle  in  a  piece 
of  modern  French  music;  and  he  had  at  times  a  kind  ot 
pleasantry,  rather  of  manner  than  of  words,  with  which 
he  started  or  maintained  the  merriment  He  took  his 
share  in  these  diversions,  not  so  much  like  a  man  in  high 
spirits,  but  like  one  of  an  approved  good  nature,  habitu- 
ally self-forgetful,  accustomed  to  please  and  to  follow 
others.  I  have  remarked  in  old  soldiers  much  the  same 
smiling  sadness  and  sociable  self-effacement. 

I  feared  to  look  at  him,  lest  my  glances  should  be- 
tray my  deep  excitement,  and  chance  served  me  so  well 
that  the  soup  was  scarce  removed  before  we  were  nat- 
urally introduced.  My  first  sip  of  Chateau  Siron,  a  vin- 
tage from  which  I  had  been  long  estranged,  startled  me 
into  speech. 

"  O,  this'll  never  do! "  I  cried,  in  English. 

"Dreadful  stuff,  isn't  it?"  said  Madden,  in  the  same 
language.  "Do  let  me  ask  you  to  share  my  bottle. 
They  call  it  Chambertin,  which  it  isn't;  but  it's  fairly 
palatable,  and  there's  nothing  in  this  house  that  a  man 
can  drink  at  all." 

I  accepted;  anything  would  do  that  paved  the  way  to 
better  knowledge. 

"Your  name  is  Madden,  I  think,"  said  I.  "My  old 
friend  Stennis  told  me  about  you  when  I  came." 

"Yes:  I  am  sorry  he  went;  I  feel, such  a  Grand- 
father William,  alone  among  all  these  lads,"  he  re- 
plied. 

"My  name  is  Dodd,"I  resumed. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "so  Madame  Siron  told  me." 

"Dodd,  of  San  Francisco,"  I  continued.  "Late  of 
Pinkerton  and  Dodd." 

38? 


THE   WRECKER 

"  Montana  Block  ?  I  think,"  said  he. 

"  The  same,"  said  I. 

Neither  of  us  looked  at  the  other ;  but  I  could  see  his 
hand  deliberately  making  bread  pills. 

' '  That's  a  nice  thing  of  yours, "  I  pursued,  ' '  that  panel. 
The  foreground  is  a  little  clayey,  perhaps,  but  the  lagoon 
is  excellent." 

"  You  ought  to  know/'  said  he. 

' '  Yes, "  returned  I,  "I'm  rather  a  good  judge  of —  that 
panel." 

There  was  a  considerable  pause. 

"You  know  a  man  by  the  name  of  Bellairs,  don't 
you  ?  "  he  resumed. 

"Ah!"  cried  I,  "you  have  heard  from  Doctor  Ur- 
quart?" 

"This  very  morning,"  he  replied. 

' '  Well,  there  is  no  hurry  about  Bellairs, "  said  I.  ' '  It's 
rather  a  long  story  and  rather  a  silly  one.  But  I  think 
we  have  a  good  deal  to  tell  each  other,  and  perhaps  we 
had  better  wait  till  we  are  more  alone." 

1 '  I  think  so, "  said  he.  "  Not  that  any  of  these  fellows 
know  English,  but  we'll  be  more  comfortable  over  at  my 
place.     Your  health,  Dodd." 

And  we  took  wine  together  across  the  table. 

Thus  had  this  singular  introduction  passed  unper- 
ceived  in  the  midst  of  more  than  thirty  persons,  art 
students,  ladies  in  dressing-gowns  and  covered  with 
rice  powder,  six  foot  of  Siron  whisking  dishes  over  our 
head,  and  his  noisy  sons  clattering  in  and  out  with  fresh 
relays. 

"One  question  more,"  said  I.  "Did  you  recognise 
my  voice  ?  " 

384 


FACE  TO   FACE 

"Your  voice?"  he  repeated.  "How  should  I?  I 
had  never  heard  it  —  we  have  never  met." 

"And  yet,  we  have  been  in  conversation  before  now," 
said  I,  "and  I  asked  you  a  question  which  you  never 
answered,  and  which  I  have  since  had  many  thousand 
better  reasons  for  putting  to  myself." 

He  turned  suddenly  white.  "Good  God!  "  he  cried, 
"  are  you  the  man  in  the  telephone  ?  " 

I  nodded. 

"Well,  well!  "  said  he.  "  It  would  take  a  good  deal 
of  magnanimity  to  forgive  you  that.  What  nights  i 
have  passed!  That  little  whisper  has  whistled  in  my 
ear  ever  since,  like  the  wind  in  a  keyhole.  Who  could 
it  be  ?  What  could  it  mean  ?  I  suppose  I  have  had 
more  real,  solid  misery  out  of  that  .  .  ."  He  paused, 
and  looked  troubled.  "Though  I  had  more  to  bother 
me,  or  ought  to  have,"  he  added,  and  slowly  emptied 
his  glass. 

"It  seems  we  were  born  to  drive  each  other  crazy 
with  conundrums,"  said  I.  "I  have  often  thought  my 
head  would  split." 

Carthew  burst  into  his  foolish  laugh.  "And  yet 
neither  you  nor  I  had  the  worst  of  the  puzzle,"  he  cried. 
"There  were  others  deeper  in." 

"And  who  were  they?"  I  asked. 

"The  underwriters,"  said  he. 

"Why,  to  be  sure,"  cried  I.  "I  never  thought  of 
that.     What  could  they  make  of  it  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  replied  Carthew.  "It  couldn't  be  ex- 
plained. They  were  a  crowd  of  small  dealers  at  Lloyd's 
who  took  it  up  in  syndicate ;  one  of  them  has  a  carriage 
now ;  and  people  say  he  is  a  deuce  of  a  deep  fellow,  and 


THE  WRECKER 

has  the  makings  of  a  great  financier.  Another  furnished 
a  small  villa  on  the  profits.  But  they're  all  hopelessly 
muddled;  and  when  they  meet  each  other,  they  don't 
know  where  to  look,  like  the  Augurs." 

Dinner  was  no  sooner  at  an  end,  than  he  carried  me 
across  the  road  to  Masson's  old  studio.  It  was  strangely 
changed.  On  the  walls  were  tapestry,  a  few  good  etch- 
ings, and  some  amazing  pictures  —  a  Rousseau,  a  Corot, 
a  really  superb  old  Crome,  a  Whistler,  and  a  piece  which 
my  host  claimed  (and  I  believe)  to  be  a  Titian.  The 
room  was  furnished  with  comfortable  English  smoking- 
room  chairs,  some  American  rockers,  and  an  elaborate 
business  table;  spirits  and  soda-water  (with  the  mark 
of  Schweppe,  no  less)  stood  ready  on  a  butler's  tray, 
and  in  one  corner,  behind  a  half-drawn  curtain,  I  spied 
a  camp-bed  and  a  capacious  tub.  Such  a  room  in  Bar- 
bizon  astonished  the  beholder,  like  the  glories  of  the 
cave  of  Monte  Cristo. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "we  are  quiet.  Sit  down,  if  you 
don't  mind,  and  tell  me  your  story  all  through." 

I  did  as  he  asked,  beginning  with  the  day  when  Jim 
showed  me  the  passage  in  the  Daily  Occidental,  and 
winding  up  with  the  stamp  album  and  the  Chailly  post- 
mark. It  was  a  long  business;  and  Carthew  made  it 
longer,  for  he  was  insatiable  of  details;  and  it  had 
struck  midnight  on  the  old  eight-day  clock  in  the  cor- 
ner, before  I  had  made  an  end. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  "turn  about:  I  must  tell  you 
my  side,  much  as  I  hate  it.  Mine  is  a  beastly  story. 
You'll  wonder  how  I  can  sleep.  I've  told  it  once  be- 
fore, Mr.  Dodd." 

"To  Lady  Ann?"  I  asked. 
386 


FACE  TO   FACE 

"As  you  suppose,"  he  answered;  "and  to  say  the 
truth,  I  had  sworn  never  to  tell  it  again.  Only,  you 
seem  somehow  entitled  to  the  thing ;  you  have  paid  dear 
enough,  God  knows;  and  God  knows  I  hope  you  may 
like  it,  now  you've  got  it!  " 

With  that  he  began  his  yarn.  A  new  day  had  dawned, 
the  cocks  crew  in  the  village  and  the  early  woodmen 
were  afoot,  when  he  concluded. 


387 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE    REMITTANCE   MAN 

Singleton  Carthew,  the  father  of  Norris,  was  heavily 
built  and  feebly  vitalised,  sensitive  as  a  musician,  dull 
as  a  sheep,  and  conscientious  as  a  dog.  He  took  his 
position  with  seriousness,  even  with  pomp;  the  long 
rooms,  the  silent  servants,  seemed  in  his  eyes  like  the 
observances  of  some  religion  of  which  he  was  the  mortal 
god.  He  had  the  stupid  man's  intolerance  of  stupidity 
in  others ;  the  vain  man's  exquisite  alarm  lest  it  should 
be  detected  in  himself.  And  on  both  sides  Norris  irri- 
tated and  offended  him.  He  thought  his  son  a  fool,  and 
he  suspected  that  his  son  returned  the  compliment  with 
interest.  The  history  of  their  relation  was  simple;  they 
met  seldom,  they  quarrelled  often.  To  his  mother,  a 
fiery,  pungent,  practical  woman,  already  disappointed 
in  her  husband  and  her  elder  son,  Norris  was  only  a 
fresh  disappointment. 

Yet  the  lad's  faults  were  no  great  matter;  he  was 
diffident,  placable,  passive,  unambitious,  unenterpris- 
ing; life  did  not  much  attract  him;  he  watched  it  like  a 
curious  and  dull  exhibition,  not  much  amused,  and  not 
tempted  in  the  least  to  take  a  part.  He  beheld  his  father 
ponderously  grinding  sand,  his  mother  fierily  breaking 
butterflies,  his  brother  labouring  at  the  pleasures  of  the 

388 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

Hawbuck  with  the  ardour  of  a  soldier  in  a  doubtful 
battle;  and  the  vital  sceptic  looked  on  wondering. 
They  were  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things; 
tor  him  there  seemed  not  even  one  thing  needful.  He 
was  born  disenchanted,  the  world's  promises  awoke  no 
echo  in  his  bosom,  the  world's  activities  and  the  world's 
distinctions  seemed  to  him  equally  without  a  base  in 
fact.  He  liked  the  open  air;  he  liked  comradeship,  it 
mattered  not  with  whom,  his  comrades  were  only  a 
remedy  for  solitude.  And  he  had  a  taste  for  painted  art. 
An  array  of  fine  pictures  looked  upon  his  childhood  and 
from  these  roods  of  jewelled  canvas  he  received  an  in- 
delible impression.  Th .  gallery  at  Stallbridge  betokened 
generations  of  picture  lovers;  Norris  was  perhaps  the 
first  of  his  race  to  hold  the  pencil.  The  taste  was  genu- 
ine, it  grew  and  strengthened  with  his  growth ;  and  yet 
he  suffered  it  to  be  suppressed  with  scarce  a  struggle. 
Time  came  for  him  to  go  to  Oxford,  and  he  resisted 
faintly.  He  was  stupid,  he  said ;  it  was  no  good  to  put 
him  through  the  mill;  he  wished  to  be  a  painter.  The 
words  fell  on  his  father  like  a  thunderbolt,  and  Norris 
made  haste  to  give  way.  "  It  didn't  really  matter,  don't 
you  know  ?  "  said  he.  "  And  it  seemed  an  awful  shame 
to  vex  the  old  boy." 

To  Oxford  he  went  obediently,  hopelessly;  and  at 
Oxford  became  the  hero  of  a  certain  circle.  He  was 
active  and  adroit;  when  he  was  in  the  humour,  he  ex- 
celled in  many  sports;  and  his  singular  melancholy  de- 
tachment gave  him  a  place  apart.  He  set  a  fashion  in 
his  clique;  envious  undergraduates  sought  to  parody  his 
unaffected  lack  of  zeal  and  fear;  it  was  a  kind  of  new 
Byronism  more  composed  and  dignified.     "  Nothing 

;8q 


THE   WRECKER 

really  mattered  " ;  among  other  things,  this  formula  em- 
braced the  dons;  and  though  he  always  meant  to  be 
civil,  the  effect  on  the  college  authorities  was  one  of 
startling  rudeness.  His  indifference  cut  like  insolence; 
and  in  some  outbreak  of  his  constitutional  levity  (the 
complement  of  his  melancholy)  he  was  "sent  down" 
in  the  middle  of  the  second  year. 

The  event  was  new  in  the  annals  of  the  Carthews, 
and  Singleton  was  prepared  to  make  the  most  of  it.  It 
had  been  long  his  practice  to  prophesy  for  his  second 
son  a  career  of  ruin  and  disgrace.  There  is  an  advan- 
tage in  this  artless  parental  habit.  Doubtless  the  father 
is  interested  in  his  son ;  but  doubtless  also  the  prophet 
grows  to  be  interested  in  his  prophecies.  If  the  one 
goes  wrong,  the  others  come  true.  Old  Carthew  drew 
from  this  source  esoteric  consolations;  he  dwelt  at 
length  on  his  own  foresight;  he  produced  variations 
hitherto  unheard  from  the  old  theme  "I  told  you  so," 
coupled  his  son's  name  with  the  gallows  and  the 
hulks,  and  spoke  of  his  small  handful  of  college  debts 
as  though  he  must  raise  money  on  a  mortgage  to  dis- 
charge them. 

"  I  don't  think  that  is  fair,  sir,"  said  Norris.  "I  lived 
at  college  exactly  as  you  told  me.  I  am  sorry  I  was 
sent  down,  and  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  blame  me 
for  that;  but  you  have  no  right  to  pitch  into  me  about 
these  debts." 

The  effect  upon  a  stupid  man  not  unjustly  incensed 
need  scarcely  be  described.  For  a  while  Singleton 
raved. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  father,"  said  Norris  at  last,  "I 
don't  think  this  is  going  to  do.     I  think  you  had  better 

390 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

let  me  take  to  painting.  It's  the  only  thing  I  take  a 
spark  of  interest  in.  I  shall  never  be  steady  as  long  as 
I'm  at  anything  else." 

"When  you  stand  here,  sir,  to  the  neck  in  disgrace," 
said  the  father,  "  I  should  have  hoped  you  would  have 
had  more  good  taste  than  to  repeat  this  levity." 

The  hint  was  taken;  the  levity  was  nevermore  ob- 
truded on  the  father's  notice,  and  Norris  was  inexorably 
launched  upon  a  backward  voyage.  He  went  abroad 
to  study  foreign  languages,  which  he  learned,  at  a  very 
expensive  rate;  and  a  fresh  crop  of  debts  fell  soon  to  be 
paid,  with  similar  lamentations,  which  were  in  this  case 
perfectly  justified,  and  to  which  Norris  paid  no  regard. 
He  had  been  unfairly  treated  over  the  Oxford  affair;  and 
with  a  spice  of  malice  very  surprising  in  one  so  placa- 
ble, and  an  obstinacy  remarkable  in  one  so  weak,  re- 
fused from  that  day  forward  to  exercise  the  least  cap- 
taincy on  his  expenses.  He  wasted  what  he  would; 
he  allowed  his  servants  to  despoil  him  at  their  pleasure ; 
he  sowed  insolvency;  and  when  the  crop  was  ripe, 
notified  his  father  with  exasperating  calm.  His  own 
capital  was  put  in  his  hands,  he  was  planted  in  the 
diplomatic  service  and  told  he  must  depend  upon  him- 
self. 

He  did  so  till  he  was  twenty-five;  by  which  time  he 
had  spent  his  money,  laid  in  a  handsome  choice  of 
debts,  and  acquired  (like  so  many  other  melancholic 
and  uninterested  persons)  a  habit  of  gambling.  An 
Austrian  colonel  —  the  same  who  afterwards  hanged 
himself  at  Monte  Carlo  —  gave  him  a  lesson  which  last- 
ed two-and-twenty  hours,  and  left  him  wrecked  and 
helpless.     Old  Singleton   once  more  repurchased   the 

391 


THE   WRECKER. 

honour  of  his  name,  this  time  at  a  fancy  figure;  and 
Norris  was  set  afloat  again  on  stern  conditions.  An 
allowance  of  three  hundred  pounds  in  the  year  was 
to  be  paid  to  him  quarterly  by  a  lawyer  in  Sydney, 
New  South  Wales.  He  was  not  to  write.  Should  he 
fail  on  any  quarter-day  to  be  in  Sydney,  he  was  to  be 
held  for  dead  and  the  allowance  tacitly  withdrawn. 
Should  he  return  to  Europe,  an  advertisement  pub- 
licly disowning  him  was  to  appear  in  every  paper  of 
repute. 

It  was  one  of  his  most  annoying  features  as  a  son, 
that  he  was  always  polite,  always  just,  and  in  what- 
ever whirlwind  of  domestic  anger,  always  calm.  He 
expected  trouble;  when  trouble  came,  he  was  un- 
moved: he  might  have  said  with  Singleton  "  1  told 
you  so";  he  was  content  with  thinking  "just  as  / 
expected."  On  the  fall  of  these  last  thunderbolts,  he 
bore  himself  like  a  person  only  distantly  interested  in 
the  event;  pocketed  the  money  and  the  reproaches, 
obeyed  orders  punctually;  took  ship  and  came  to 
Sydney.  Some  men  are  still  lads  at  twenty-five;  and 
so  it  was  with  Norris.  Eighteen  days  after  he  landed, 
his  quarter's  allowance  was  all  gone;  and  with  the 
light-hearted  hopefulness  of  strangers  in  what  is  called 
a  new  country,  he  began  to  besiege  offices  and  apply 
for  all  manner  of  incongruous  situations.  Everywhere 
and  last  of  all  from  his  lodgings,  he  was  bowed  out; 
and  found  himself  reduced,  in  a  very  elegant  suit  of 
summer  tweeds,  to  herd  and  camp  with  the  degraded 
outcasts  of  the  city. 

in  this  strait,  he  had  recourse  to  the  lawyer  who  paid 
him  his  allowance. 

392 


THE    REMITTANCE    MAN 

''Try  to  remember  that  my  time  is  valuable,  Mr.  Car- 
thew,"  said  the  lawyer.  "It  is  quite  unnecessary  you 
should  enlarge  on  the  peculiar  position  in  which  you 
stand.  Remittance  men,  as  we  call  them  here,  are  not 
so  rare  in  my  experience;  and  in  such  cases  I  act  upon 
a  system.  I  make  you  a  present  of  a  sovereign ;  here 
it  is.  Every  day  you  choose  to  call,  my  clerk  will  ad- 
vance you  a  shilling;  on  Saturday,  since  my  office  is 
closed  on  Sunday,  he  will  advance  you  half  a  crown. 
My  conditions  are  these :  that  you  do  not  come  to  me, 
but  to  my  clerk ;  that  you  do  not  come  here  the  worse 
of  liquor;  and  you  go  away  the  moment  you  are  paid 
and  have  signed  a  receipt.  I  wish  you  a  good-morn- 
ing." 

"I  have  to  thank  you,  I  suppose,"  said  Carthew. 
' '  My  position  is  so  wretched  that  I  cannot  even  refuse 
this  starvation  allowance." 

''Starvation!"  said  the  lawyer,  smiling.  "No  man 
will  starve  here  on  a  shilling  a  day.  1  have  had  on  my 
hands  another  young  gentleman,  who  remained  con- 
tinuously intoxicated  for  six  years  on  the  same  allow- 
ance." And  he  once  more  busied  himself  with  his 
papers. 

In  the  time  that  followed,  the  image  of  the  smiling 
lawyer  haunted  Carthew's  memory.  "  That  three  min- 
utes' talk  was  all  the  education  I  ever  had  worth  talking 
of,"  says  he.  "  It  was  all  life  in  a  nut-shell.  Con- 
found it!  I  thought,  have  I  got  to  the  point  of  envying 
that  ancient  fossil  ?  " 

Every  morning  for  the  next  two  or  three  weeks,  the 
stroke  of  ten  found  Norris,  unkempt  and  haggard,  at  the 
lawyer's  door.     The  long  day  and  longer  night  he  spent 

393 


THE  WRECKER 

in  the  Domain,  now  on  a  bench,  now  on  the  grass  un- 
der a  Norfolk  Island  pine,  the  companion  of  perhaps  the 
lowest  class  on  earth,  the  Larrikins  of  Sydney.  Morning 
after  morning,  the  dawn  behind  the  lighthouse  recalled 
him  from  slumber;  and  he  would  stand  and  gaze  upon 
the  changing  east,  the  fading  lenses,  the  smokeless  city, 
and  the  many-armed  and  many-masted  harbour  growing 
slowly  clear  under  his  eyes.  His  bed-fellows  (so  to  call 
them)  were  less  active;  they  lay  sprawled  upon  the 
grass  and  benches,  the  dingy  men,  the  frowsy  women, 
prolonging  their  late  repose;  and  Carthew  wandered 
among  the  sleeping  bodies  alone,  and  cursed  the  incura- 
ble stupidity  of  his  behaviour.  Day  brought  a  new  so- 
ciety of  nursery-maids  and  children,  and  fresh-dressed 
and  (I  am  sorry  to  say)  tight-laced  maidens,  and  gay 
people  in  rich  traps;  upon  the  skirts  of  which  Carthew 
and  "  the  other  blackguards  "  —  his  own  bitter  phrase — 
skulked,  and  chewed  grass,  and  looked  on.  Day  passed, 
the  light  died,  the  green  and  leafy  precinct  sparkled 
with  lamps  or  lay  in  shadow,  and  the  round  of  the  night 
began  again,  the  loitering  women,  the  lurking  men,  the 
sudden  outburst  of  screams,  the  sound  of  flying  feet. 
"You  mayn't  believe  it,"  says  Carthew,  "but  I  got  to 
that  pitch  that  I  didn't  care  a  hang.  I  have  been  wak- 
ened out  of  my  sleep  to  hear  a  woman  screaming,  and  I 
have  only  turned  upon  my  other  side.  Yes,  it's  a  queer 
place,  where  the  dowagers  and  the  kids  walk  all  day, 
and  at  night  you  can  hear  people  bawling  for  help  as  if 
it  was  the  Forest  of  Bondy,  with  the  lights  of  a  great 
town  all  round,  and  parties  spinning  through  in  cabs 
from  Government  House  and  dinner  with  my  lord! " 
It  was  Norris's  diversion,  having  none  other,  to  scrape 

394 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

acquaintance,  where,  how,  and  with  whom  he  could. 
Many  a  long  dull  talk  he  held  upon  the  benches  or  the 
grass;  many  a  strange  waif  he  came  to  know;  many 
strange  things  he  heard,  and  saw  some  that  were  abomi- 
nable. It  was  to  one  of  these  last  that  he  owed  his  de- 
liverance from  the  Domain.  For  some  time  the  rain 
had  been  merciless;  one  night  after  another  he  had  been 
obliged  to  squander  fourpence  on  a  bed  and  reduce  his 
board  to  the  remaining  eightpence:  and  he  sat  one 
morning  near  the  Macquarrie  Street  entrance,  hungry, 
for  he  had  gone  without  breakfast,  and  wet,  as  he  had 
already  been  for  several  days,  when  the  cries  of  an  ani- 
mal in  distress  attracted  his  attention.  Some  fifty  yards 
away,  in  the  extreme  angle  of  the  grass,  a  party  of  the 
chronically  unemployed  had  got  hold  of  a  dog,  whom 
they  were  torturing  in  a  manner  not  to  be  described. 
The  heart  of  Norris,  which  had  grown  indifferent  to  the 
cries  of  human  anger  or  distress,  woke  at  the  appeal  of 
the  dumb  creature.  He  ran  amongst  the  Larrikins, 
scattered  them,  rescued  the  dog,  and  stood  at  bay. 
They  were  six  in  number,  shambling  gallowsbirds ;  but 
for  once  the  proverb  was  right,  cruelty  was  coupled 
with  cowardice,  and  the  wretches  cursed  him  and  made 
off.  It  chanced  this  act  of  prowess  had  not  passed  un- 
witnessed. On  a  bench  near  by  there  was  seated  a 
shopkeeper's  assistant  out  of  employ,  a  diminutive, 
cheerful,  red-headed  creature  by  the  name  of  Hemstead. 
He  was  the  last  man  to  have  interfered  himself,  for  his 
discretion  more  than  equalled  his  valour;  but  he  made 
haste  to  congratulate  Carthew,  and  to  warn  him  he 
might  not  always  be  so  fortunate. 

"They're  a  dyngerous  lot  of  people  about  this  park. 

395 


THE   WRECKER 

My  word !  it  doesn't  do  to  ply  with  them !  "  he  observed, 
in  that  rycy  Amtrylian  English,  which  (as  it  has  re- 
ceived the  imprimatur  of  Mr.  Froude)  we  should  all 
make  haste  to  imitate. 

"  Why,  I'm  one  of  that  lot  myself,"  returned  Carthew. 

Hemstead  laughed  and  remarked  that  he  knew  a 
gentleman  when  he  saw  one. 

"  For  all  that,  I  am  simply  one  of  the  unemployed," 
said  Carthew,  seating  himself  beside  his  new  acquaint- 
ance, as  he  had  sat  (since  this  experience  began)  beside 
so  many  dozen  others. 

"I  am  out  of  a  plyce  myself,"  said  Hemstead. 

"You  beat  me  all  the  way  and  back,"  says  Carthew. 
"  My  trouble  is  that  I  have  never  been  in  one." 

"  I  suppose  you've  no  tryde  ?"  asked  Hemstead. 

"I  know  how  to  spend  money,"  replied  Carthew, 
"  and  I  really  do  know  something  of  horses  and  some- 
thing of  the  sea.  But  the  unions  head  me  off;  if  it 
weren't  for  them,  I  might  have  had  a  dozen  berths.'' 

* '  My  word !  "  cried  the  sympathetic  listener.  ' '  Ever 
try  the  mounted  police?"  he  inquired. 

4 '  I  did,  and  was  bowled  out, "  was  the  reply ;  ' '  could- 
n't pass  the  doctors." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  the  ryleways,  then  ?" 
asked  Hemstead. 

"What  do  you  think  of  them,  if  you  come  to  that  ? " 
asked  Carthew. 

"  O,  /  don't  think  of  them;  I  don't  go  in  for  manual 
labour,"  said  the  little  man,  proudly.  "But  if  a  man 
don't  mind  that,  he's  pretty  sure  of  a  job  there." 

"  By  George,  you  tell  me  where  to  go! "  cried  Car- 
thew, rising. 

iq6 


THE    REMITTANCE    MAN 

The  heavy  rains  continued,  the  country  was  already 
overrun  with  floods;  the  railway  sytem  daily  required 
more  hands,  daily  the  superintendent  advertised;  but 
"the  unemployed"  preferred  the  resources  of  charity 
and  rapine,  and  a  navvy,  even  an  amateur  navvy,  com- 
manded money  in  the  market.  The  same  night,  after  a 
tedious  journey,  and  a  change  of  trains  to  pass  a  land- 
slip, Norris  found  himself  in  a  muddy  cutting  behind 
South  Clifton,  attacking  his  first  shift  of  manual  labour. 

For  weeks  the  rain  scarce  relented.  The  whole  front 
of  the  mountain  slipped  seaward  from  above,  avalanches 
of  clay,  rock,  and  uprooted  forest  spewed  over  the  cliffs 
and  fell  upon  the  beach  or  in  the  breakers.  Houses 
were  carried  bodily  away  and  smashed  like  nuts;  others 
were  menaced  and  deserted,  the  door  locked,  the  chim- 
ney cold,  the  dwellers  fled  elsewhere  for  safety.  Night 
and  day  the  fire  blazed  in  the  encampment;  night  and 
day  hot  coffee  was  served  to  the  overdriven  toilers  in 
the  shift ;  night  and  day  the  engineer  of  the  section  made 
his  rounds  with  words  of  encouragement,  hearty  and 
rough  and  well  suited  to  his  men.  Night  and  day,  too, 
the  telegraph  clicked  with  disastrous  news  and  anxious 
inquiry.  Along  the  terraced  line  of  rail,  rare  trains  came 
creeping  and  signalling;  and  paused  at  the  threatened 
corner,  like  living  things  conscious  of  peril.  The  com- 
mandant of  the  post  would  hastily  review  his  labours, 
make  (with  a  dry  throat)  the  signal  to  advance;  and  the 
whole  squad  line  the  way  and  look  on  in  a  choking 
silence,  or  burst  into  a  brief  cheer  as  the  train  cleared 
the  point  of  danger  and  shot  on,  perhaps  through  the 
thin  sunshine  between  squalls,  perhaps  with  blinking 
lamps  into  the  gathering,  rainy  twilight. 

397 


THE  WRECKER 

One  such  scene  Carthew  will  remember  till  he  dies. 
It  blew  great  guns  from  the  seaward;  a  huge  surf  bom- 
barded, five  hundred  feet  below  him,  the  steep  moun- 
tain's foot;  close  in  was  a  vessel  in  distress,  firing  shots 
from  a  fowling-piece,  if  any  help  might  come.  So  he 
saw  and  heard  her  the  moment  before  the  train  appeared 
and  paused,  throwing  up  a  Babylonian  tower  of  smoke 
into  the  rain  and  oppressing  men's  hearts  with  the 
scream  of  her  whistle.  The  engineer  was  there  himself; 
he  paled  as  he  made  the  signal :  the  engine  came  at  a 
foot's  pace;  but  the  whole  bulk  of  mountain  shook  and 
seemed  to  nod  seaward,  and  the  watching  navvies  in- 
stinctively clutched  at  shrubs  and  trees :  vain  precau- 
tions, vain  as  the  shots  from  the  poor  sailors.  Once 
again  fear  was  disappointed ;  the  train  passed  unscathed ; 
and  Norris,  drawing  a  long  breath,  remembered  the 
labouring  ship  and  glanced  below.     She  was  gone. 

So  the  days  and  the  nights  passed :  Homeric  labour 
in  Homeric  circumstance.  Carthew  was  sick  with 
sleeplessness  and  coffee;  his  hands,  softened  by  the 
wet,  were  cut  to  ribbons;  yet  he  enjoyed  a  peace  of 
mind  and  health  of  body  hitherto  unknown.  Plenty  of 
open  air,  plenty  of  physical  exertion,  a  continual  in- 
stancy of  toil,  here  was  what  had  been  hitherto  lacking 
in  that  misdirected  life,  and  the  true  cure  of  vital  scep- 
ticism. To  get  the  train  through :  there  was  the  recur- 
rent problem ;  no  time  remained  to  ask  if  it  were  neces- 
sary. Carthew,  the  idler,  the  spendthrift,  the  drifting 
dilettant,  was  soon  remarked,  praised,  and  advanced. 
The  engineer  swore  by  him  and  pointed  him  out  for  an 
example.  "I've  a  new  chum,  up  here,"  Norris  over- 
heard him  saying,  "a  young  swell.     He's  worth  any 

398 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

two  in  the  squad."  The  words  fell  on  the  ears  of  the 
discarded  son  like  music;  and  from  that  moment,  he 
not  only  found  an  interest,  he  took  a  pride,  in  his  ple- 
beian tasks. 

The  press  of  work  was  still  at  its  highest  when  quar- 
ter-day approached.  Norris  was  now  raised  to  a  posi- 
tion of  some  trust;  at  his  discretion,  trains  were  stopped 
or  forwarded  at  the  dangerous  cornice  near  North  Clif- 
ton ;  and  he  found  in  this  responsibility  both  terror  and 
delight.  The  thought  of  the  seventy-five  pounds  that 
would  soon  await  him  at  the  lawyer's,  and  of  his  own 
obligation  to  be  present  every  quarter-day  in  Sydney, 
filled  him  for  a  little  with  divided  councils.  Then  he 
made  up  his  mind,  walked  in  a  slack  moment  to  the 
inn  at  Clifton,  ordered  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  bottle  of 
beer,  and  wrote,  explaining  that  he  held  a  good  ap- 
pointment which  he  would  lose  if  he  came  to  Sydney, 
and  asking  the  lawyer  to  accept  this  letter  as  an  evidence 
of  his  presence  in  the  colony  and  retain  the  money  till 
next  quarter-day.  The  answer  came  in  course  of  post, 
and  was  not  merely  favourable  but  cordial.  "Although 
what  you  propose  is  contrary  to  the  terms  of  my  in- 
structions," it  ran,  "I  willingly  accept  the  responsibility 
of  granting  your  request.  I  should  say  I  am  agreeably 
disappointed  in  your  behaviour.  My  experience  has 
not  led  me  to  found  much  expectations  on  gentlemen  in 
your  position." 

The  rains  abated,  and  the  temporary  labour  was  dis- 
charged; not  Norris,  to  whom  the  engineer  clung  as  to 
found  money ;  not  Norris,  who  found  himself  a  ganger 
on  the  line  in  the  regular  staff  of  navvies.  His  camp 
was  pitched  in  a  grey  wilderness  of  rock  and  forest,  far 

399 


THE   WRECKER 

from  any  house;  as  he  sat  with  his  mates  about  the 
evening  fire,  the  trains  passing  on  the  track  were  their 
next  and  indeed  their  only  neighbours,  except  the  wild 
things  of  the  wood.  Lovely  weather,  light  and  monot- 
onous employment,  long  hours  of  somnolent  camp-fire 
talk,  long  sleepless  nights,  when  he  reviewed  his  foolish 
and  fruitless  career  as  he  rose  and  walked  in  the  moonlit 
forest,  an  occasional  paper  of  which  he  would  read  all, 
the  advertisements  with  as  much  relish  as  the  text: 
such  was  the  tenor  of  an  existence  which  soon  began  to 
weary  and  harass  him.  He  lacked  and  regretted  the 
fatigue,  the  furious  hurry,  the  suspense,  the  fires,  the 
midnight  coffee,  the  rude  and  mud-bespattered  poetry 
of  the  first  toilful  weeks.  In  the  quietness  of  his  new 
surroundings,  a  voice  summoned  him  from  this  exorbital 
part  of  life,  and  about  the  middle  of  October  he  threw 
up  his  situation  and  bade  farewell  to  the  camp  of  tents 
and  the  shoulder  of  Bald  Mountain. 

Clad  in  his  rough  clothes,  with  a  bundle  on  his  shoul- 
der and  his  accumulated  wages  in  his  pocket,  he  entered 
Sydney  for  the  second  time,  and  walked  with  pleasure 
and  some  bewilderment  in  the  cheerful  streets,  like  a 
man  landed  from  a  voyage.  The  sight  of  the  people 
led  him  on.  He  forgot  his  necessary  errands,  he  for- 
got to  eat.  He  wandered  in  moving  multitudes  like  a 
stick  upon  a  river.  Last  he  came  to  the  Domain  and 
strolled  there,  and  remembered  his  shame  and  suffer- 
ings, and  looked  with  poignant  curiosity  at  his  suc- 
cessors. Hemstead,  not  much  shabbier  and  no  less 
cheerful  than  before,  he  recognised  and  addressed  like 
an  old  family  friend. 

"  That  was  a  good  turn  you  did  me,"  said  he.  "That 
400 


THE    REMITTANCE    MAN 

railway  was  the  making  of  me.  I  hope  you've  had  luck 
yourself." 

"My  word,  no!  "  replied  the  little  man.  "1  just  sit 
here  and  read  the  Dead  Bird.  It's  the  depression  in 
tryde,  you  see.  There's  no  positions  goin'  that  a  man 
like  me  would  care  to  look  at."  And  he  showed  Norris 
his  certificates  and  written  characters,  one  from  a  grocer 
in  Wooloomooloo,  one  from  an  ironmonger,  and  a  third 
from  a  billiard  saloon.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "1  tried  bein' 
a  billiard  marker.  It's  no  account;  these  lyte  hours  are 
no  use  for  a  man's  health.  I  won't  be  no  man's  slyve," 
he  added  firmly. 

On  the  principle  that  he  who  is  too  proud  to  be  a  slave 
is  usually  not  too  modest  to  become  a  pensioner,  Car- 
thew  gave  him  half  a  sovereign,  and  departed,  being 
suddenly  struck  with  hunger,  in  the  direction  of  the  Paris 
House.  When  he  came  to  that  quarter  of  the  city,  the 
barristers  were  trotting  in  the  streets  in  wig  and  gown, 
and  he  stood  to  observe  them  with  his  bundle  on  his 
shoulder,  and  his  mind  full  of  curious  recollections  of 
the  past. 

"  By  George!  "  cried  a  voice,  "  it's  Mr.  Carthew!  " 

And  turning  about,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
a  handsome  sunburnt  youth,  somewhat  fatted,  arrayed 
in  the  finest  of  fine  raiment,  and  sporting  about  a  sov- 
ereign's worth  of  flowers  in  his  buttonhole.  Norris  had 
met  him  during  his  first  days  in  Sydney  at  a  farewell 
supper;  had  even  escorted  him  on  board  a  schooner  full 
of  cockroaches  and  black-boy  sailors  in  which  he  was 
bound  for  six  months  among  the  islands;  and  had  kept 
him  ever  since  in  entertained  remembrance.  Tom  Had- 
den  (known  to  the  bulk  of  Sydney  folk  as  Tommy)  was 

401 


THE   WRECKER 

heir  to  a  considerable  property,  which  a  prophetic  father 
had  placed  in  the  hands  of  rigorous  trustees.  The  in- 
come supported  Mr.  Hadden  in  splendour  for  about  three 
months  out  of  twelve;  the  rest  of  the  year  he  passed  in 
retreat  among  the  islands.  He  was  now  about  a  week 
returned  from  his  eclipse,  pervading  Sydney  in  hansom 
cabs  and  airing  the  first  bloom  of  six  new  suits  of 
clothes ;  and  yet  the  unaffected  creature  hailed  Carthew 
in  his  working  jeans  and  with  the  damning  bundle  on 
his  shoulder,  as  he  might  have  claimed  acquaintance 
with  a  duke. 

"Come  and  have  a  drink! "  was  his  cheerful  cry. 

"I'm  just  going  to  have  lunch  at  the  Paris  House," 
returned  Carthew.  "It's  a  long  time  since  I  have  had 
a  decent  meal." 

"Splendid  scheme!"  said  Hadden.  "I've  only  had 
breakfast  half  an  hour  ago;  but  we'll  have  a  private 
room,  and  I'll  manage  to  pick  something.  It'll  brace 
me  up.  I  was  on  an  awful  tear  last  night,  and  I've  met 
no  end  of  fellows  this  morning."  To  meet  a  fellow,  and 
to  stand  and  share  a  drink,  were  with  Tom  synonymous 
terms. 

They  were  soon  at  table  in  the  corner  room  up-stairs, 
and  paying  due  attention  to  the  best  fare  in  Sydney. 
The  odd  similarity  of  their  positions  drew  them  to- 
gether, and  they  began  soon  to  exchange  confidences. 
Carthew  related  his  privations  in  the  Domain  and  his 
toils  as  a  navvy;  Hadden  gave  his  experience  as  an  ama- 
teur copra  merchant  in  the  South  Seas,  and  drew  a  hu- 
morous picture  of  life  in  a  coral  island.  Of  the  two 
plans  of  retirement,  Carthew  gathered  that  his  own  had 
been  vastly  the  more  lucrative;  but  Hadden's  trading 

402 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

outfit  had  consisted  largely  of  bottled  stout  and  brown 
sherry  for  his  own  consumption. 

"I  had  champagne  too,  said  Hadden,  "but  I  kept 
that  in  case  of  sickness,  until  1  didn't  seem  to  be  going 
to  be  sick,  and  then  I  opened  a  pint  every  Sunday. 
Used  to  sleep  all  morning,  then  breakfast  with  my  pint 
of  fizz,  and  lie  in  a  hammock  and  read  Hallam's  Middle 
Ages.  Have  you  read  that  ?  I  always  take  something 
solid  to  the  islands.  There's  no  doubt  I  did  the  thing 
in  rather  a  fine  style;  but  if  it  was  gone  about  a  little 
cheaper,  or  there  were  two  of  us  to  bear  the  expense, 
it  ought  to  pay  hand  over  fist.  I've  got  the  influence, 
you  see.  I'm  a  chief  now,  and  sit  in  the  speak-house 
under  my  own  strip  of  roof.  I'd  like  to  see  them  taboo 
me!  They  daren't  try  it;  I've  a  strong  party,  I  can  tell 
you.  Why,  I've  had  upwards  of  thirty  cowtops  sitting 
in  my  front  verandah  eating  tins  of  salmon." 

"  Cowtops  ?  "  asked  Carthew,  "what  are  they  ?  " 
"That's  what  Hallam  would  call  feudal  retainers," 
explained  Hadden,  not  without  vainglory.  "They're 
My  Followers.  They  belong  to  My  Family.  I  tell  you, 
they  come  expensive,  though ;  you  can't  fill  up  all  these 
retainers  on  tinned  salmon  for  nothing;  but  whenever  I 
could  get  it,  I  would  give  'em  squid.  Squid's  good  for 
natives,  but  I  don't  care  for  it,  do  you?  —  or  shark 
either.  It's  like  the  working  classes  at  home.  With 
copra  at  the  price  it  is,  they  ought  to  be  willing  to 
bear  their  share  of  the  loss;  and  so  I've  told  them  again 
and  again.  I  think  it's  a  man's  duty  to  open  their 
minds,  and  I  try  to,  but  you  can't  get  political  econ- 
omy into  them;  it  doesn't  seem  to  reach  their  intelli- 
gence." 

403 


THE   WRECKER 

There  was  an  expression  still  sticking  in  Carthew's 
memory,  and  he  returned  upon  it  with  a  smile.  "Talk- 
ing of  political  economy,"  said  he,  "you  said  if  there 
were  two  of  us  to  bear  the  expense,  the  profits  would 
increase.     How  do  you  make  out  that  ?  " 

"I'll  show  you!  I'll  figure  it  out  for  you!  "  cried  Had- 
den,  and  with  a  pencil  on  the  back  of  the  bill  of  fare, 
proceeded  to  perform  miracles.  He  was  a  man,  or 
let  us  rather  say  a  lad,  of  unusual  projective  power. 
Give  him  the  faintest  hint  of  any  speculation,  and  the 
figures  flowed  from  him  by  the  page.  A  lively  imagina- 
tion and  a  ready  though  inaccurate  memory  supplied 
his  data;  he  delivered  himself  with  an  inimitable  heat 
that  made  him  seem  the  picture  of  pugnacity ;  lavished 
contradiction;  had  a  form  of  words,  with  or  without 
significance,  for  every  form  of  criticism ;  and  the  looker- 
on  alternately  smiled  at  his  simplicity  and  fervour,  or 
was  amazed  by  his  unexpected  shrewdness.  He  was 
a  kind  of  Pinkerton  in  play.  I  have  called  Jim's  the  ro- 
mance of  business;  this  was  its  Arabian  tale. 

"Have  you  any  idea  what  this  would  cost?"  he 
asked,  pausing  at  an  item. 

"Not  I,"  said  Carthew. 

"Ten  pounds  ought  to  be  ample,"  concluded  the 
projector. 

"  O,  nonsense!  "  cried  Carthew.  "  Fifty  at  the  very 
least." 

"  You  told  me  yourself  this  moment  you  knew  noth 
ing  about  it!  "  cried  Tommy.     "  How  can  I  make  a  cal- 
culation, if  you  blow  hot  and  cold?    You  don't  seem 
able  to  be  serious!  " 

But  he  consented  to  raise  his  estimate  to  twenty ;  and 
404 


THE    REMITTANCE   MAN 

a  little  after,  the  calculation  coming  out  with  a  deficit, 
cut  it  down  again  to  five  pound  ten,  with  the  remark, 
"  I  told  you  it  was  nonsense.  This  sort  of  thing  has  to 
be  done  strictly,  or  where's  the  use  ?  " 

Some  of  these  processes  struck  Carthew  as  unsound ; 
and  he  was  at  times  altogether  thrown  out  by  the  capri- 
cious startings  of  the  prophet's  mind.  These  plunges 
seemed  to  be  gone  into  for  exercise  and  by  the  way,  like 
the  curvets  of  a  willing  horse.  Gradually  the  thing 
took  shape;  the  glittering  if  baseless  edifice  arose;  and 
the  hare  still  ran  on  the  mountains,  but  the  soup  was 
already  served  in  silver  plate.  Carthew  in  a  few  days 
could  command  a  hundred  and  fifty  pounds;  Hadden 
was  ready  with  five  hundred ;  why  should  they  not  re- 
cruit a  fellow  or  two  more,  charter  an  old  ship,  and  go 
cruising  on  their  own  account  ?  Carthew  was  an  ex- 
perienced yachtsman ;  Hadden  professed  himself  able  to 
"work  an  approximate  sight."  Money  was  undoubt- 
edly to  be  made,  or  why  should  so  many  vessels  cruise 
about  the  islands  ?  they,  who  worked  their  own  ship, 
were  sure  of  a  still  higher  profit. 

"And  whatever  else  comes  of  it,  you  see,"  cried 
Hadden,  "we  get  our  keep  for  nothing.  Come,  buy 
some  togs,  that's  the  first  thing  you  have  to  do  of 
course;  and  then  we'll  take  a  hansom  and  go  to  the 
Currency  Lass. 

"  I'm  going  to  stick  to  the  togs  I  have,"  said  Norris. 

"Are  you?"  cried  Hadden.  "Well,  I  must  say  I 
admire  you.  You're  a  regular  sage.  It's  what  you  call 
Pythagoreanism,  isn't  it  ?  if  I  haven't  forgotten  my  phi- 
losophy." 

"Well,  I  call  it  economy,"  returned  Carthew.  "If 
405 


THE  WRECKER 

we  are  going  to  try  this  thing  on,  I  shall  want  every 
sixpence." 

"  You'll  see  if  we're  going  to  try  it!  "  cried  Tommy, 
rising  radiant  from  table.  "  Only,  mark  you,  Carthew, 
it  must  be  all  in  your  name.  I  have  capital,  you  see; 
but  you're  all  right.  You  can  play  vacuus  viator  J  if  the 
thing  goes  wrong." 

"  I  thought  we  had  just  proved  it  was  quite  safe,"  said 
Carthew. 

"  There's  nothing  safe  in  business,  my  boy,"  replied 
the  sage;  " not  even  bookmaking." 

The  public  house  and  tea  garden  called  the  Currency 
Lass  represented  a  moderate  fortune  gained  by  its  pro- 
prietor, Captain  Bostock,  during  a  long,  active,  and  oc- 
casionally historic  career  among  the  islands.  Anywhere 
from  Tonga  to  the  Admiralty  Isles,  he  knew  the  ropes 
and  could  lie  in  the  native  dialect.  He  had  seen  the 
end  of  sandal  wood,  the  end  of  oil,  and  the  beginning 
of  copra;  and  he  was  himself  a  commercial  pioneer,  the 
first  that  ever  carried  human  teeth  into  the  Gilberts. 
He  was  tried  for  his  life  in  Fiji  in  Sir  Arthur  Gordon's 
time;  and  if  ever  he  prayed  at  all,  the  name  of  Sir 
Arthur  was  certainly  not  forgotten.  He  was  speared  in 
seven  places  in  New  Ireland  —  the  same  time  his  mate 
was  killed  —  the  famous  "outrage  on  the  brig  Jolly 
Roger '  7  but  the  treacherous  savages  made  little  by 
their  wickedness,  and  Bostock,  in  spite  of  their  teeth, 
got  seventy-five  head  of  volunteer  labour  on  board,  of 
whom  not  more  than  a  dozen  died  of  injuries.  He  had 
a  hand,  besides,  in  the  amiable  pleasantry  which  cost 
the  life  of  Patteson ;  and  when  the  sham  bishop  landed, 
prayed,  and  gave  his  benediction  to  the  natives,  Bostock, 

406 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

arrayed  in  a  female  chemise  out  of  the  traderoom,  had 
stood  at  his  right  hand  and  boomed  amens.  This,  when 
he  was  sure  he  was  among  good  fellows,  was  his  favour- 
ite yarn.  "Two  hundred  head  of  labour  for  a  hatful  of 
amens,"  he  used  to  name  the  tale;  and  its  sequel,  the 
death  of  the  real  bishop,  struck  him  as  a  circumstance 
of  extraordinary  humour. 

Many  of  these  details  were  communicated  in  the  han- 
som, to  the  surprise  of  Carthew. 

"Why  do  we  want  to  visit  this  old  ruffian?"  he 
asked. 

1 '  You  wait  till  you  hear  him, "  replied  Tommy.  ' '  That 
man  knows  everything." 

On  descending  from  the  hansom  at  the  Currency  Lass, 
Hadden  was  struck  with  the  appearance  of  the  cabman, 
a  gross,  salt-looking  man,  red-faced,  blue-eyed,  short- 
handed  and  short-winded,  perhaps  nearing  forty. 

"  Surely  I  know  you  ?  "  said  he.  "  Have  you  driven 
me  before?" 

"  Many's  the  time,  Mr.  Hadden,"  returned  the  driver. 
"The  last  time  you  was  back  from  the  islands,  it  was 
me  that  drove  you  to  the  races,  sir." 

"All  right:  jump  down  and  have  a  drink  then," 
said  Tom,  and  he  turned  and  led  the  way  into  the 
garden. 

Captain  Bostock  met  the  party :  he  was  a  slow,  sour 
old  man,  with  fishy  eyes;  greeted  Tommy  offhand,  and 
(as  was  afterwards  remembered)  exchanged  winks  with 
the  driver. 

"  A  bottle  of  beer  for  the  cabman  there  at  that  table," 
said  Tom.  "Whatever  you  please  from  shandygaff  to 
champagne  at  this  one  here;  and  you  sit  down  with  us. 

407 


THE   WRECKER 

Let  me  make  you  acquainted  with  my  friend,  Mr.  Car  - 
thew.  I've  come  on  business,  Billy;  I  want  to  consult 
you  as  a  friend;  I'm  going  into  the  island  trade  upon  my 
own  account." 

Doubtless  the  captain  was  a  mine  of  counsel,  but  op- 
portunity was  denied  him.  He  could  not  venture  on  a 
statement,  he  was  scarce  allowed  to  finish  a  phrase,  be- 
fore Hadden  swept  him  from  the  field,  with  a  volley  of 
protest  and  correction.  That  projector,  his  face  blazing 
with  inspiration,  first  laid  before  him  at  inordinate  length 
a  question,  and  as  soon  as  he  attempted  to  reply,  leaped 
at  his  throat,  called  his  facts  in  question,  derided  his 
policy,  and  at  times  thundered  on  him  from  the  heights 
of  moral  indignation. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  once.  "lama  gentle- 
man, Mr.  Carthew  here  is  a  gentleman,  and  we  don't 
mean  to  do  that  class  of  business.  Can't  you  see  who 
you're  talking  to  ?  Can't  you  talk  sense  ?  Can't  you 
give  us  '  a  dead  bird  '  for  a  good  traderooin  ?" 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  I  can,"  returned  old  Bostock; 
11  not  when  I  can't  hear  my  own  voice  for  two  seconds 
together.     It  was  gin  and  guns  I  did  it  with." 

"Take  your  gin  and  guns  to  Putney!  "  cried  Hadden. 
"It  was  the  thing  in  your  times,  that's  right  enough; 
but  you're  old  now,  and  the  game's  up.  I'll  tell  you 
what's  wanted  now-a-days,  Bill  Bostock, "  said  he;  and 
did,  and  took  ten  minutes  to  it. 

Carthew  could  not  refrain  from  smiling.  He  began  to 
think  less  seriously  of  the  scheme,  Hadden  appearing  too 
irresponsible  a  guide ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  he  enjoyed 
himself  amazingly.  It  was  far  from  being  the  same  with 
Captain  Bostock. 

408 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

"  You  know  a  sight,  don't  you  ?"  remarked  that  gen- 
tleman, bitterly,  when  Tommy  paused. 

il\  know  a  sight  more  than  you,  if  that's  what  you 
mean."  retorted  Tom.  "  It  stands  to  reason  I  do.  You're 
not  a  man  of  any  education;  you've  been  all  your  life  at 
sea  or  in  the  islands;  you  don't  suppose  you  can  give 
points  to  a  man  like  me  ?" 

"Here's  your  health,  Tommy,"  returned  Bostock. 
"  You'll  make  an  A-one  bake  in  the  New  Hebrides." 

"  That's  what  I  call  talking,"  cried  Tom,  not  perhaps 
grasping  the  spirit  of  this  doubtful  compliment.  ' '  Now 
you  give  me  your  attention.  We  have  the  money  and 
the  enterprise,  and  I  have  the  experience:  what  we 
want  is  a  cheap,  smart  boat,  a  good  captain,  and  an  in- 
troduction to  some  house  that  will  give  us  credit  for  the 
trade." 

11  Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Captain  Bostock.  "I  seen 
men  like  you  baked  and  eaten,  and  complained  of  after- 
wards. Some  was  tough,  and  some  hadn't  no  flaviour, " 
he  added  grimly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  cried  Tom. 

'*  I  mean  I  don't  care,"  said  Bostock.  "  It  ain't  any  of 
my  interests.  I  haven't  underwrote  your  life.  Only  I'm 
blest  if  I'm  not  sorry  for  the  cannibal  as  tries  to  eat  your 
head.  And  what  I  recommend  is  a  cheap,  smart  coffin 
and  a  good  undertaker.  See  if  you  can  find  a  house  to 
give  you  credit  for  a  coffin !  Look  at  your  friend  there ; 
he's  got  some  sense;  he's  laughing  at  you  so  as  he  can't 
stand." 

The  exact  degree  of  ill-feeling  in  Mr.  Bostock's  mind 
was  difficult  to  gauge;  perhaps  there  was  not  much, 
perhaps  he  regarded  his  remarks  as  a  form  of  courtly 

409 


THE  WRECKER 

badinage.  But  there  is  little  doubt  that  Hadden  resented 
them.  He  had  even  risen  from  his  place,  and  the  con- 
ference was  on  the  point  of  breaking  up,  when  a  new 
voice  joined  suddenly  in  the  conversation. 

The  cabman  sat  with  his  back  turned  upon  the  party, 
smoking  a  meerschaum  pipe.  Not  a  word  of  Tommy's 
eloquence  had  missed  him,  and  he  now  faced  suddenly 
about  with  these  amazing  words: — 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen;  if  you'll  buy  me  the  ship  I 
want,  I'll  get  you  the  trade  on  credit." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"Well,  what  do  you  mean  ?"  gasped  Tommy. 

"  Better  tell  'em  who  I  am,  Billy,"  said  the  cabman. 

"  Think  it  safe,  Joe  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Bostock. 

"I'll  take  my  risk  of  it,"  returned  the  cabman. 

M  Gentlemen,"  said  Bostock,  rising  solemnly,  "  let  me 
make  you  acquainted  with  Captain  Wicks  of  the  Grace 
Darling. ' ' 

"  Yes,  gentlemen,  that  is  what  I  am,"  said  the  cab- 
man. "You  know  I've  been  in  trouble;  and  I  don't 
deny  but  what  I  struck  the  blow,  and  where  was  I  to 
get  evidence  of  my  provocation  ?  So  I  turned  to  and 
took  a  cab,  and  I've  driven  one  for  three  year  now  and 
nobody  the  wiser." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Carthew,  joining  almost 
for  the  first  time;  "lama  new  chum.  What  was  the 
charge  ?  " 

"Murder,"  said  Captain  Wicks,  "and  I  don't  deny 
but  what  I  struck  the  blow.  And  there's  no  sense  in 
my  trying  to  deny  I  was  afraid  to  go  to  trial,  or  why 
would  I  be  here?  But  it's  a  fact  it  was  flat  mutiny. 
Ask  Billy  here.     He  knows  how  it  was." 

410 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

Carthew  breathed  long;  he  had  a  strange,  half- 
pleasurable  sense  of  wading  deeper  in  the  tide  of  life. 
1 '  Well  ?  "  said  he,  "  you  were  going  on  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  on  to  say  this,"  said  the  captain,  sturdily. 
"  I've  overheard  what  Mr.  Hadden  has  been  saying,  and 
I  think  he  talks  good  sense.  I  like  some  of  his  ideas 
first  chop.  He's  sound  on  traderooms ;  he's  all  there  on 
the  traderoom;  and  I  see  that  he  and  I  would  pull  to- 
gether. Then  you're  both  gentlemen,  and  I  like  that," 
observed  Captain  Wicks.  "And  then  I'll  tell  you  I'm 
tired  of  this  cabbing  cruise,  and  I  want  to  get  to  work 
again.  Now  here's  my  offer.  I've  a  little  money  I  can 
stake  up, —  all  of  a  hundred  anyway.  Then  my  old 
firm  will  give  me  trade,  and  jump  at  the  chance;  they 
never  lost  by  me;  they  know  what  I'm  worth  as  super- 
cargo. And  last  of  all,  you  want  a  good  captain  to 
sail  your  ship  for  you.  Well,  here  I  am.  I've  sailed 
schooners  for  ten  years.  Ask  Billy  if  I  can  handle  a 
schooner." 

"No  man  better,"  said  Billy. 

"And  as  for  my  character  as  a  shipmate,"  concluded 
Wicks,  "  go  and  ask  my  old  firm." 

"But  look  here!"  cried  Hadden.  "How  do  you 
mean  to  manage  ?  You  can  whisk  round  in  a  hansom, 
and  no  questions  asked.  But  if  you  try  to  come  on  a 
quarterdeck,  my  boy,  you'll  get  nabbed." 

"  I'll  have  to  keep  back  till  the  last,"  replied  Wicks, 
"and  take  another  name." 

"  But  how  about  clearing  ?  what  other  name  ?  "  asked 
Tommy,  a  little  bewildered. 

"  I  don't  know  yet,"  returned  the  captain,  with  a  grin. 
"I'll  see  what  the  name  is  on  my  new  certificate,  and 

411 


THE   WRECKER 

that'll  be  good  enough  for  me.  If  I  can't  get  one  to  buy, 
though  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing,  there's  old  Kirkup, 
he's  turned  some  sort  of  farmer  down  Bondi  way;  he'll 
hire  me  his." 

"  You  seemed  to  speak  as  if  you  had  a  ship  in  view," 
said  Carthew. 

"So  I  have,  too,"  said  Captain  Wicks,  "  and  a  beauty. 
Schooner  yacht  Dream;  got  lines  you  never  saw  the 
beat  of;  and  a  witch  to  go.  She  passed  me  once  off 
Thursday  Island,  doing  two  knots  to  my  one  and  laying 
a  point  and  a  half  better:  and  the  Grace  Darling  was  a 
ship  that  I  was  proud  of.  I  took  and  tore  my  hair. 
The  Dream  's  been  my  dream  ever  since.  That  was  in 
her  old  days,  when  she  carried  a  blue  ens'n.  Grant 
Sanderson  was  the  party  as  owned  her;  he  was  rich 
r.nd  mad,  and  got  a  fever  at  last  somewhere  about  the 
Fly  River,  and  took  and  died.  The  captain  brought  the 
body  back  to  Sydney,  and  paid  off.  Well,  it  turned 
out  Grant  Sanderson  had  left  any  quantity  of  wills  and 
any  quantity  of  widows,  and  no  fellow  could  make  out 
which  was  the  genuine  article.  All  the  widows  brought 
lawsuits  against  all  the  rest,  and  every  will  had  a  firm 
of  lawyers  on  the  quarterdeck  as  long  as  your  arm. 
They  tell  me  it  was  one  of  the  biggest  turns-to  that  ever 
was  seen,  bar  Tichborne ;  the  Lord  Chamberlain  himself 
was  floored,  and  so  was  the  Lord  Chancellor;  and  all 
that  time  the  Dream  lay  rotting  up  by  Glebe  Point. 
Well,  it's  done  now ;  they've  picked  out  a  widow  and  a 
will;  tossed  up  for  it,  as  like  as  not;  and  the  Dream  's 
for  sale.  She'll  go  cheap ;  she's  had  a  long  turn-to  at 
rotting. " 

"What  size  is  she  f" 

41a 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

"  Well,  big  enough.  We  don't  want  her  bigger.  A 
hundred  and  ninety,  going  two  hundred,"  replied  the 
captain.  "  She's  fully  big  for  us  three;  it  would  be  all 
the  better  if  we  had  another  hand,  though  it's  a  pity  too, 
when  you  can  pick  up  natives  for  half  nothing.  Then 
we  must  have  a  cook.  I  can  fix  raw  sailor-men,  but 
there's  no  going  to  sea  with  a  new-chum  cook.  I  can 
lay  hands  on  the  man  we  want  for  that :  a  Highway  boy, 
an  old  shipmate  of  mine,  of  the  name  of  Amalu.  Cooks 
first  rate,  and  it's  always  better  to  have  a  native;  he 
ain't  fly,  you  can  turn  him  to  as  you  please,  and  he  don't 
know  enough  to  stand  out  for  his  rights." 

From  the  moment  that  Captain  Wicks  joined  in  the 
conversation,  Carthew  recovered  interest  and  confi- 
dence; the  man  (whatever  he  might  have  done)  was 
plainly  good-natured,  and  plainly  capable;  if  he  thought 
well  of  the  enterprise,  offered  to  contribute  money, 
brought  experience,  and  could  thus  solve  at  a  word  the 
problem  of  the  trade,  Carthew  was  content  to  go  ahead. 
As  for  Hadden,  his  cup  was  full ;  he  and  Bostock  for- 
gave each  other  in  champagne;  toast  followed  toast;  it 
was  proposed  and  carried  amid  acclamation  to  change 
the  name  of  the  schooner  (when  she  should  be  bought) 
to  the  Currency  Lass;  and  the  Currency  Lass  Island 
Trading  Company  was  practically  founded  before  dusk. 

Three  days  later,  Carthew  stood  before  the  lawyer, 
still  in  his  jean  suit,  received  his  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds,  and  proceeded  rather  timidly  to  ask  for  more 
indulgence. 

"  I  have  a  chance  to  get  on  in  the  world,*'  he  said. 
"  By  to-morrow  evening  I  expect  to  be  part  owner  of  a 
ship." 

4'5 


THE  WRECKER 

"Dangerous  property,  Mr.  Carthew,"  said  the  lawyer. 

"Not  if  the  partners  work  her  themselves  and  stand 
to  go  down  along  with  her,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  conceive  it  possible  you  might  make  something  of  it 
that  way, "  returned  the  other.  ' '  But  are  you  a  seaman  ? 
I  thought  you  had  been  in  the  diplomatic  service." 

"  I  am  an  old  yachtsman,"  said  Norris.  "  And  I  must 
do  the  best  I  can.  A  fellow  can't  live  in  New  South 
Wales  upon  diplomacy.  But  the  point  I  wish  to  pre- 
pare you  for  is  this,  ft  will  be  impossible  I  should 
present  myself  here  next  quarter-day ;  we  expect  to  make 
a  six-months'  cruise  of  k  among  the  islands." 

"Sorry,  Mr.  Carthew:  f  can't  hear  of  that,"  replied 
the  lawyer. 

"  I  mean  upon  the  same  conditions  as  the  last,"  said 
Carthew. 

"The  conditions  are  exactly  opposite/'  said  the  law- 
yer. "  Last  time  I  had  reason  to  know  you  were  in  the 
colony ;  and  even  then  I  stretched  a  point.  This  time, 
by  your  own  confession,  you  are  contemplating  a  breach 
of  the  agreement;  and  (  give  you  warning  if  you  carry 
it  out  and  I  receive  proof  of  it  (for  I  will  agree  to  re- 
gard this  conversation  as  confidential)  I  shall  have  no 
choice  but  to  do  my  duty.  Be  here  on  quarter-day,  or 
your  allowance  ceases." 

"  This  is  very  hard  and,  I  think,  rather  silly,"  returned 
Carthew. 

"It  is  not  of  my  doing,  f  have  my  instructions," 
said  the  lawyer. 

"  And  you  so  read  these  instructions,  that  I  am  to  be 
prohibited  from  making  an  honest  livelihood  ?  "  asked 
Carthew. 

4'4 


THE   REMITTANCE   MAN 

"Let  us  be  frank,"  said  the  lawyer.  "I  find  noth- 
ing in  these  instructions  about  an  honest  livelihood.  I 
have  no  reason  to  suppose  my  clients  care  anything 
about  that.  I  have  reason  to  suppose  only  one  thing, 
—  that  they  mean  you  shall  stay  in  this  colony,  and  to 
guess  another,  Mr.  Carthew.     And  to  guess  another." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  Norris. 

"I  mean  that  I  imagine,  on  very  strong  grounds,  that 
your  family  desire  to  see  no  more  of  you,"  said  the  law- 
yer. "  O,  they  may  be  very  wrong;  but  that  is  the  im- 
pression conveyed,  that  is  what  I  suppose  I  am  paid  to 
bring  about,  and  I  have  no  choice  but  to  try  and  earn 
my  hire." 

"I  would  scorn  to  deceive  you,"  said  Norris,  with  a 
strong  flush,  "you  have  guessed  rightly.  My  family 
refuse  to  see  me;  but  I  am  not  going  to  England,  I  am 
going  to  the  islands.     How  does  that  affect  the  islands  ?  " 

"Ah,  but  I  don't  know  that  you  are  going  to  the 
islands,"  said  the  lawyer,  looking  down,  and  spearing 
the  blotting-paper  with  a  pencil. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  have  the  pleasure  of  inform- 
ing you,"  said  Norris. 

"I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Carthew,  that  I  cannot  regard  that 
communication  as  official,"  was  the  slow  reply. 

"I  am  not  accustomed  to  have  my  word  doubted!" 
cried  Norris. 

"Hush!  I  allow  no  one  to  raise  his  voice  in  my 
office,"  said  the  lawyer.  "And  for  that  matter  —  you 
seem  to  be  a  young  gentleman  of  sense  —  consider  what 
I  know  of  you.  You  are  a  discarded  son;  your  family 
pays  money  to  be  shut  of  you.  What  have  you  done? 
I  don't  know.     But  do  you  not  see  how  foolish  I  should 

415 


THE    WRECKER 

be,  if  I  exposed  my  business  reputation  on  the  safe- 
guard of  the  honour  of  a  gentleman  of  whom  I  know 
just  so  much  and  no  more  ?  This  interview  is  very 
disagreeable.  Why  prolong  it  ?  Write  home,  get  my 
instructions  changed,  and  I  will  change  my  behaviour. 
Not  otherwise." 

"I  am  very  fond  of  three  hundred  a  year,"  said  Nor- 
ris,  ''but  I  cannot  pay  the  price  required.  I  shall  not 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again." 

"  You  must  please  yourself,"  said  the  lawyer.  "Fail 
to  be  here  next  quarter-day,  and  the  thing  stops.  But 
1  warn  you,  and  1  mean  the  warning  in  a  friendly  spirit. 
Three  months  later  you  will  be  here  begging,  and  I  shall 
have  no  choice  but  to  show  you  in  the  street." 

"  I  wish  you  a  good-evening,"  said  Norris. 

"The  same  to  you,  Mr.  Carthew,"  retorted  the  law- 
yer, and  rang  for  his  clerk. 

So  it  befell  that  Norris,  during  what  remained  to  him 
of  arduous  days  in  Sydney,  saw  not  again  the  face  of  his 
legal  adviser;  and  he  was  already  at  sea,  and  land  was 
out  of  sight,  when  Hadden  brought  him  a  Sydney  paper, 
over  which  he  had  been  dozing  in  the  shadow  of  the 
galley,  and  showed  him  an  advertisement. 

"Mr.  Norris  Carthew  is  earnestly  entreated  to  call 

without  delay  at  the  office  of  Mr. ,  where  important 

intelligence  awaits  him." 

"It  must  manage  to  wait  for  me  six  months,"  said 
Norris,  lightly  enough,  but  yet  conscious  of  a  pang  of 
curiosity. 


4»o 


CHAPTER   XXII! 

THE    BUDGET    OF   THE    "CURRENCY    LASS " 

Before  noon  on  the  26th  November,  there  cleared 
from  the  port  of  Sydney  the  schooner,  Currency  Lass. 
The  owner,  Norris  Carthew,  was  on  board  in  the  some- 
what unusual  position  of  mate;  the  master's  name  pur- 
ported to  be  William  Kirkup ;  the  cook  was  a  Hawaiian 
boy,  Joseph  Amalu;  and  there  were  two  hands  before 
the  mast,  Thomas  Hadden  and  Richard  Hemstead,  the 
latter  chosen  partly  because  of  his  humble  character, 
partly  because  he  had  an  odd-job-man's  handiness  with 
tools.  The  Currency  Lass  was  bound  for  the  South 
Sea  Islands,  and  first  of  all  for  Butaritari  in  the  Gilberts, 
on  a  register;  but  it  was  understood  about  the  harbour 
that  her  cruise  was  more  than  half  a  pleasure  trip.  A 
friend  of  the  late  Grant  Sanderson  (of  Auchentroon  and 
Kilclarty)  might  have  recognised  in  that  tall-masted 
ship,  the  transformed  and  rechristened  Dream ;  and  a 
Lloyd's  surveyor,  had  the  services  of  such  an  one  been 
called  in  requisition,  must  have  found  abundant  subject 
of  remark. 

For  time,  during  her  three  years'  inaction,  had  eaten 
deep  into  the  Dream  and  her  fittings ;  she  had  sold  in 
consequence  a  shade  above  her  value  as  old  junk;  and 
the  three  adventurers  had  scarce  been  able  to  afford 

4»7 


THE  WRECKER 

even  the  most  vital  repairs.  The  rigging,  indeed,  had 
been  partly  renewed,  and  the  rest  set  up;  all  Grant 
Sanderson's  old  canvas  had  been  patched  together  into 
one  decently  serviceable  suit  of  sails ;  Grant  Sanderson's 
masts  still  stood,  and  might  have  wondered  at  them- 
selves. "I  haven't  the  heart  to  tap  them,"  Captain 
Wicks  used  to  observe,  as  he  squinted  up  their  height 
or  patted  their  rotundity;  and  "as  rotten  as  our  fore- 
mast" was  an  accepted  metaphor  in  the  ship's  com- 
pany. The  sequel  rather  suggests  it  may  have  been 
sounder  than  was  thought;  but  no  one  knew  for  cer- 
tain, just  as  no  one  except  the  captain  appreciated  the 
dangers  of  the  cruise.  The  captain,  indeed,  saw  with 
clear  eyes  and  spoke  his  mind  aloud ;  and  though  a  man 
of  an  astonishing  hot-blooded  courage,  following  life 
and  taking  its  dangers  in  the  spirit  of  a  hound  upon  the 
slot,  he  had  made  a  point  of  a  big  whaleboat.  "  Take 
your  choice,"  he  had  said;  "either  new  masts  and  rig- 
ging or  that  boat.  I  simply  ain't  going  to  sea  without 
the  one  or  the  other.  Chicken  coops  are  good  enough, 
no  doubt,  and  so  is  a  dinghy;  but  they  ain't  for  Joe." 
And  his  partners  had  been  forced  to  consent,  and  saw 
six  and  thirty  pounds  of  their  small  capital  vanish  in  the 
turn  of  a  hand. 

All  four  had  toiled  the  best  part  of  six  weeks  get- 
ting ready;  and  though  Captain  Wicks  was  of  course 
not  seen  or  heard  of,  a  fifth  was  there  to  help  them,  a 
fellow  in  a  bushy  red  beard,  which  he  would  some- 
times lay  aside  when  he  was  below,  and  who  strikingly 
resembled  Captain  Wicks  in  voice  and  character.  As 
for  Captain  Kirkup,  he  did  not  appear  till  the  last  mo- 
ment, when  he  proved  to  be  a  burly  mariner,  bearded 

418 


THE   BUDGET  OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

like  Abou  Ben  Adhem.  All  the  way  down  the  harbour 
and  through  the  Heads,  his  milk-white  whiskers  blew 
in  the  wind  and  were  conspicuous  from  shore;  but  the 
Currency  Lass  had  no  sooner  turned  her  back  upon  the 
lighthouse,  than  he  went  below  for  the  inside  of  five 
seconds  and  reappeared  clean  shaven.  So  many  doub- 
lings and  devices  were  required  to  get  to  sea  with  an 
unseaworthy  ship  and  a  captain  that  was  "wanted." 
Nor  might  even  these  have  sufficed,  but  for  the  fact  that 
Hadden  was  a  public  character,  and  the  whole  cruise 
regarded  with  an  eye  of  indulgence  as  one  of  Tom's  en- 
gaging eccentricities.  The  ship,  besides,  had  been  a 
yacht  before;  and  it  came  the  more  natural  to  allow  her 
still  some  of  the  dangerous  liberties  of  her  old  employ- 
ment. 

A  strange  ship  they  had  made  of  it,  her  lofty  spars 
disfigured  with  patched  canvas,  her  panelled  cabin  fitted 
for  a  traderoom  with  rude  shelves.  And  the  life  they 
led  in  that  anomalous  schooner  was  no  less  curious  than 
herself.  Amalu  alone  berthed  forward ;  the  rest  occu- 
pied staterooms,  camped  upon  the  satin  divans,  and  sat 
down  in  Grant  Sanderson's  parquetry  smoking-room  to 
meals  of  junk  and  potatoes,  bad  of  their  kind  and  often 
scant  in  quantity.  Hemstead  grumbled;  Tommy  had 
occasional  moments  of  revolt  and  increased  the  ordinary 
by  a  few  haphazard  tins  or  a  bottle  of  his  own  brown 
sherry.  But  Hemstead  grumbled  from  habit,  Tommy 
revolted  only  for  the  moment,  and  there  was  underneath 
a  real  and  general  acquiescence  in  these  hardships.  For 
besides  onions  and  potatoes,  the  Currency  Lass  may  be 
said  to  have  gone  to  sea  without  stores.  She  carried 
two  thousand   pounds'  worth  of  assorted  trade,  ad- 

419 


THE   WRECKER. 

vanced  on  credit,  their  whole  hope  and  fortune.  It  was 
upon  this  that  they  subsisted  — mice  in  their  own  gran- 
ary. They  dined  upon  their  future  profits;  and  every 
scanty  meal  was  so  much  in  the  savings  bank. 

Republican  as  were  their  manners,  there  was  no  prac- 
tical, at  least  no  dangerous,  lack  of  discipline.  Wicks 
was  the  only  sailor  on  board,  there  was  none  to  criti- 
cise; and  besides,  he  was  so  easy-going,  and  so  merry- 
minded,  that  none  could  bear  to  disappoint  him.  Car- 
thew  did  his  best,  partly  for  the  love  of  doing  it,  partly 
for  love  of  the  captain ;  Amalu  was  a  willing  drudge, 
and  even  Hemstead  and  Hadden  turned  to  upon  occa- 
sion with  a  will.  Tommy's  department  was  the  trade 
and  traderoom;  he  would  work  down  in  the  hold  or 
over  the  shelves  of  the  cabin,  till  the  Sydney  dandy  was 
unrecognisable;  come  up  at  last,  draw  a  bucket  of  sea- 
water,  bathe,  change,  and  lie  down  on  deck  over  a  big- 
sheaf  of  Sydney  Heralds  and  Dead  Birds,  or  perhaps 
with  a  volume  of  Buckle's  History  of  Civilisation,  the 
standard  work  selected  for  that  cruise.  In  the  latter 
case,  a  smile  went  round  the  ship,  for  Buckle  almost  in- 
variably laid  his  student  out,  and  when  Tom  awoke 
again  he  was  almost  always  in  the  humour  for  brown 
sherry.  The  connection  was  so  well  established  that 
"a  glass  of  Buckle''  or  "a  bottle  of  civilisation"  be- 
came current  pleasantries  on  board  the  Currency  Lass. 

Hemstead's  province  was  that  of  the  repairs,  and  he 
had  his  hands  full.  Nothing  on  board  but  was  decayed 
in  a  proportion;  the  lamps  leaked;  so  did  the  decks; 
door-knobs  came  off  in  the  hand,  mouldings  parted 
company  with  the  panels,  the  pump  declined  to  suck, 
and  the  defective  bathroom  came  near  to  swamp  the 

420 


THE  BUDGET  OF  THE  "  CURRENCY  LASS" 

ship.  Wicks  insisted  that  all  the  nails  were  long  ago 
consumed,  and  that  she  was  only  glued  together  by 
the  rust.  "You  shouldn't  make  me  laugh  so  much, 
Tommy,"  he  would  say.  "I'm  afraid  I'll  shake  the 
sternpost  out  of  her."  And,  as  Hemstead  went  to  and 
fro  with  his  tool  basket  on  an  endless  round  of  tinker- 
ing, Wicks  lost  no  opportunity  of  chaffing  him  upon  his 
duties.  "  If  you'd  turn  to  at  sailoring  or  washing  paint 
or  something  useful,  now,"  he  would  say,  "I  could  see 
the  fun  of  it  But  to  be  mending  things  that  haven't  no 
insides  to  them,  appears  to  me  the  height  of  foolish- 
ness." And  doubtless  these  continual  pleasantries  helped 
to  reassure  the  landsmen,  who  went  to  and  fro  un- 
moved, under  circumstances  that  might  have  aaunted 
Nelson. 

The  weather  was  from  the  outset  splendid,  and  the 
wind  fair  and  steady.  The  ship  sailed  like  a  witch. 
4 '  This  Currency  Lass  is  a  po werful  old  girl,  and  has 
more  complaints  than  I  would  care  to  put  a  name  on," 
the  captain  would  say,  as  he  pricked  the  chart;  "but 
she  could  show  her  blooming  heels  to  anything  of  her 
size  in  the  Western  Pacific."  To  wash  decks,  relieve 
the  wheel,  do  the  day's  work  after  dinner  on  the  smok- 
ing-room table,  and  take  in  kites  at  night, —  such  was 
the  easy  routine  of  their  life.  In  the  evening  —  above 
all,  if  Tommy  had  produced  some  of  his  civilisation  — 
yarns  and  music  were  the  rule.  Amalu  had  a  sweet 
Hawaiian  voice;  and  Hemstead,  a  great  hand  upon  the 
banjo,  accompanied  his  own  quavering  tenor  with  ef- 
fect. There  was  a  sense  in  which  the  little  man  could 
sing.  It  was  great  to  hear  him  deliver  My  Boy  Tammie 
in  Austrylian;  and  the  words  (some  of  the  worst  of  the 

421 


THE  WRECKER 

ruffian  Macneil's)  were  hailed  in  his  version  with  inex- 
tinguishable mirth. 

Where  hye  ye  been  a'  dye  ? 

he  would  ask,  and  answer  himself:  — 

I've  been  by  burn  and  flowery  brye, 
Meadow  green  an'  mountain  grye, 
Courtin'  o'  this  young  thing, 
Just  come  frye  her  mammie. 

It  was  the  accepted  jest  for  all  hands  to  greet  the  con- 
clusion of  this  song  with  the  simultaneous  cry:  "My 
word!"  thus  winging  the  arrow  of  ridicule  with  a 
feather  from  the  singer's  wing.  But  he  had  his  revenge 
with  Home,  Sweet  Home,  and  Where  is  my  Wandering 
Boy  To-night?  —  ditties  into  which  he  threw  the  most 
intolerable  pathos.  It  appeared  he  had  no  home,  nor 
had  ever  had  one,  nor  yet  any  vestige  of  a  family,  ex- 
cept a  truculent  uncle,  a  baker  in  Newcastle,  N.  S.  W. 
His  domestic  sentiment  was  therefore  wholly  in  the  air, 
and  expressed  an  unrealised  ideal.  Or  perhaps,  of  all 
his  experiences,  this  of  the  Currency  Lass,  with  its 
kindly,  playful,  and  tolerant  society,  approached  it  the 
most  nearly. 

It  is  perhaps  because  I  know  the  sequel,  but  I  can 
never  think  upon  this  voyage  without  a  profound  sense 
of  pity  and  mystery;  of  the  ship  (once  the  whim  of  a 
rich  blackguard)  faring  with  her  battered  fineries  and 
upon  her  homely  errand,  across  the  plains  of  ocean,  and 
past  the  gorgeous  scenery  of  dawn  and  sunset;  and  the 
ship's  company,  so  strangely  assembled,  so  Britishly 
chuckle-headed,  filling  their  days  with  chaff  in  place  of 

422 


THE   BUDGET   OF   THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

conversation ;  no  human  book  on  board  with  them  ex^ 
cept  Hadden's  Buckle,  and  not  a  creature  fit  either  to 
read  or  to  understand  it;  and  the  one  mark  of  any  civ- 
ilised interest,  being  when  Carthew  filled  in  his  spare 
hours  with  the  pencil  and  the  brush :  the  whole  uncon- 
scious crew  of  them  posting  in  the  meanwhile  towards 
so  tragic  a  disaster. 

Twenty-eight  days  out  of  Sydney,  on  Christmas  eve, 
they  fetched  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  lagoon,  and  plied 
all  that  night  outside,  keeping  their  position  by  the 
lights  of  fishers  on  the  reef  and  the  outlines  of  the 
palms  against  the  cloudy  sky.  With  the  break  of  day, 
the  schooner  was  hove  to,  and  the  signal  for  a  pilot 
shown.  But  it  was  plain  her  lights  must  have  been 
observed  in  the  darkness  by  the  native  fishermen,  and 
word  carried  to  the  settlement,  for  a  boat  was  already 
under  way.  She  came  towards  them  across  the  lagoon 
under  a  great  press  of  sail,  lying  dangerously  down,  so 
that  at  times,  in  the  heavier  puffs,  they  thought  she 
would  turn  turtle;  covered  the  distance  in  fine  style, 
luffed  up  smartly  alongside,  and  emitted  a  haggard  look- 
ing white  man  in  pyjamas. 

"Good  mornin',  Cap'n,"  said  he,  when  he  had  made 
good  his  entrance.  "  I  was  taking  you  for  a  Fiji  man- 
of-war,  what  with  your  flush  decks  and  them  spars. 
Well,  gen'lemen  all,  here's  wishing  you  a  Merry  Christ- 
mas and  a  Happy  New  Year,"  he  added,  and  lurched 
against  a  stay. 

"Why,  you're  never  the  pilot?"  exclaimed  Wicks, 
studying  him  with  a  profound  disfavour.  "You've 
never  taken  a  ship  in  —  don't  tell  me!" 

"Well,  I  should  guess  I  have,"  returned  the  pilot. 
423 


THE   WRECKER 

"  I'm  Captain  Dobbs,  I  am;  and  when  I  take  charge,  the 
captain  of  that  ship  can  go  below  and  shave." 

"  But,  man  alive!  you're  drunk,  man!  "  cried  the  cap- 
tain. 

"  Drunk!  "  repeated  Dobbs.  "  You  can't  have  seen 
much  life  if  you  call  me  drunk.  I'm  only  just  begin- 
ning. Come  night,  I  won't  say;  I  guess  I'll  be  properly 
full  by  then.  But  now  I'm  the  soberest  man  in  all  Big 
Muggin." 

"It  won't  do,"  retorted  Wicks.  "Not  for  Joseph, 
sir.     I  can't  have  you  piling  up  my  schooner." 

"All  right,"  said  Dobbs,  "lay  and  rot  where  you  are, 
or  take  and  go  in  and  pile  her  up  for  yourself  like  the 
captain  of  the  Leslie.  That's  business,  I  guess;  grudged 
me  twenty  dollars'  pilotage,  and  lost  twenty  thousand 
in  trade  and  a  brand  new  schooner;  ripped  the  keel 
right  off  of  her,  and  she  went  down  in  the  inside  of 
four  minutes,  and  lies  in  twenty  fathom,  trade  and 
all." 

"What's  all  this  ?  "  cried  Wicks.  "Trade  ?  What 
vessel  was  this  Leslie,  anyhow  ?" 

"Consigned  to  Cohen  and  Co.,  from  'Frisco,"  re- 
turned the  pilot,  "  and  badly  wanted.  There's  a  barque 
inside  filling  up  for  Hamburg  —  you  see  her  spars  over 
there ;  and  there's  two  more  ships  due,  all  the  way  from 
Germany,  one  in  two  months,  they  say,  and  one  in 
three;  and  Cohen  and  Co.'s  agent  (that's  Mr.  Topelius) 
has  taken  and  lain  down  with  the  jaundice  on  the 
strength  of  it.  I  guess  most  people  would,  in  his  shoes; 
no  trade,  no  copra,  and  twenty  hundred  ton  of  ship- 
ping due.  If  you've  any  copra  on  board,  Cap'n,  here's 
your  chance.     Topelius  will  buy,  gold  down,  and  give 

424 


THE  BUDGET  OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

three  cents.  It's  all  found  money  to  him,  the  way  it  is, 
whatever  he  pays  for  it.  And  that's  what  come  of  go- 
ing back  on  the  pilot." 

"Excuse  me  one  moment,  Captain  Dobbs.  I  wish 
to  speak  with  my  mate,"  said  the  captain,  whose  face 
had  begun  to  shine  and  his  eyes  to  sparkle. 

"  Please  yourself,"  replied  the  pilot.  "  You  couldn't 
think  of  offering  a  man  a  nip,  could  you  ?  just  to  brace 
him  up.  This  kind  of  thing  looks  damned  inhospitable, 
and  gives  a  schooner  a  bad  name." 

"  I'll  talk  about  that  after  the  anchor's  down,"  re- 
turned Wicks,  and  he  drew  Carthew  forward.  "I 
say,"  he  whispered,  "here's  a  fortune."  , 

"  How  much  do  you  call  that?"  asked  Carthew. 

" 1  can't  put  a  figure  on  it  yet  —  I  daren't!  "  said  the 
captain.  "We  might  cruise  twenty  years  and  not  find 
the  match  of  it.  And  suppose  another  ship  came  in 
to-night  ?  Everything's  possible !  And  the  difficulty  is 
this  Dobbs.  He's  as  drunk  as  a  marine.  How  can  we 
trust  him  ?     We  ain't  insured,  worse  luck!  " 

"Suppose  you  took  him  aloft  and  got  him  to  point 
out  the  channel?''  suggested  Carthew.  "If  he  tallied 
at  all  with  the  chart,  and  didn't  fall  out  of  the  rigging, 
perhaps  we  might  risk  it." 

"Well,  all's  risk  here,"  returned  the  captain.  "Take 
the  wheel  yourself,  and  stand  by.  Mind,  if  there's  two 
orders,  follow  mine,  not  his.  Set  the  cook  for'ard  with 
the  heads'ls,  and  the  two  others  at  the  main  sheet,  and 
see  they  don't  sit  on  it."  With  that  he  called  the  pilot; 
they  swarmed  aloft  in  the  fore  rigging,  and  presently 
after  there  was  bawled  down  the  welcome  order  to  ease 
sheets  and  fill  away. 

425 


THE  WRECKER 

At  a  quarter  before  nine  o'clock  on  Christmas  morn- 
ing, the  anchor  was  let  go. 

The  first  cruise  of  the  Currency  Lass  had  thus  ended 
in  a  stroke  of  fortune  almost  beyond  hope.  She  had 
brought  two  thousand  pounds'  worth  of  trade,  straight 
as  a  homing  pigeon,  to  the  place  where  it  was  most 
required.  And  Captain  Wicks  (or,  rather,  Captain 
Kirkup)  showed  himself  the  man  to  make  the  best  of 
his  advantage.  For  hard  upon  two  days  he  walked  a 
verandah  with  Topelius;  for  hard  upon  two  days  his 
partners  watched  from  the  neighbouring  public  house 
the  field  of  battle;  and  the  lamps  were  not  yet  lighted 
on  the,  evening  of  the  second  before  the  enemy  sur- 
rendered. Wicks  came  across  to  the  Sans  Souci,  as 
the  saloon  was  called,  his  face  nigh  black,  his  eyes  al- 
most closed  and  all  bloodshot,  and  yet  bright  as  lighted 
matches. 

"Come  out  here,  boys,"  he  said;  and  when  they 
were  some  way  off  among  the  palms,  "  I  hold  twenty- 
four,"  he  added,  in  a  voice  scarce  recognisable,  and 
doubtless  referring  to  the  venerable  game  of  cribbage. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Tommy. 

"  I've  sold  the  trade,"  answered  Wicks;  "  or,  rather, 
I've  sold  only  some  of  it,  for  I  kept  back  all  the  mess 
beef  and  half  the  flour  and  biscuit;  and,  by  God,  we're 
still  provisioned  for  four  months!  By  God,  it's  as  good 
as  stolen ! " 

"My  word!"  cried  Hemstead. 

"  But  what  have  you  sold  it  for  ?  "  gasped  Carthew, 
the  captain's  almost  insane  excitement  shaking  his 
nerve. 

"Let  me  tell  it  my  own  way,"  cried  Wicks,  loosen- 
426 


THE   BUDGET   OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

ing  his  neck.  "Let  me  get  at  it  gradual,  or  I'll  ex- 
plode. I've  not  only  sold  it,  boys,  I've  wrung  out  a 
charter  on  my  own  terms  to  'Frisco  and  back;  on  my 
own  terms.  I  made  a  point  of  it.  I  fooled  him  first  by 
making  believe  I  wanted  copra,  which  of  course  I  knew 
he  wouldn't  hear  of — couldn't,  in  fact;  and  whenever 
he  showed  tight,  I  trotted  out  the  copra,  and  that  man 
dived!  I  would  take  nothing  but  copra,  you  see;  and 
so  I've  got  the  blooming  lot  in  specie  —  all  but  two 
short  bills  on  'Frisco.  And  the  sum  ?  Well,  this  whole 
adventure,  including  two  thousand  pounds  of  credit, 
cost  us  two  thousand  seven  hundred  and  some  odd. 
That's  all  paid  back;  in  thirty  days'  cruise  we've  paid 
for  the  schooner  and  the  trade.  Heard  ever  any  man 
the  match  of  that?  And  it's  not  all!  For  besides  that," 
said  the  captain,  hammering  his  words,  "we've  got 
Thirteen  Blooming  Hundred  Pounds  of  profit  to  divide. 
I  bled  him  in  four  Thou. ! "  he  cried,  in  a  voice  that 
broke  like  a  schoolboy's. 

For  a  moment  the  partners  looked  upon  their  chief 
with  stupefaction,  incredulous  surprise  their  only  feel- 
ing.    Tommy  was  the  first  to  grasp  the  consequences. 

"  Here?  "  he  said,  in  a  hard,  business  tone.  "  Come 
back  to  that  saloon.     I've  got  to  get  drunk." 

"You  must  please  excuse  me,  boys,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, earnestly.  "I  daren't  taste  nothing.  If  I  was  to 
drink  one  glass  of  beer,  it's  my  belief  I'd  have  the 
apoplexy.  The  last  scrimmage,  and  the  blooming 
triumph,  pretty  nigh  hand  done  me." 

"  Well,  then,  three  cheers  for  the  captain!  "  proposed 
Tommy. 

But  Wicks  held  up  a  shaking  hand.    ' '  Not  that  either, 
427 


THE   WRECKER 

boys,"  he  pleaded.  "  Think  of  the  other  buffer,  and  let 
him  down  easy.  If  I'm  like  this,  just  fancy  what  To- 
peiius  is!  If  he  heard  us  singing  out,  he'd  have  the 
staggers." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Topelius  accepted  his  defeat  with 
a  good  grace ;  but  the  crew  of  the  wrecked  Leslie,  who 
were  in  the  same  employment  and  loyal  to  their  firm, 
took  the  thing  more  bitterly.  Rough  words  and  ugly 
looks  were  common.  Once  even  they  hooted  Captain 
Wicks  from  the  saloon  verandah;  the  Currency  Lasses 
drew  out  on  the  other  side ;  for  some  minutes  there  had 
like  to  have  been  a  battle  in  Butaritari ;  and  though  the 
occasion  passed  off  without  blows,  it  left  on  either  side 
an  increase  of  ill-feeling. 

No  such  small  matter  could  affect  the  happiness  of 
the  successful  traders.  Five  days  more  the  ship  lay  in 
the  lagoon,  with  little  employment  for  any  one  but 
Tommy  and  the  captain  —  for  Topelius's  natives  dis- 
charged cargo  and  brought  ballast;  the  time  passed  like 
a  pleasant  dream ;  the  adventurers  sat  up  half  the  night 
debating  and  praising  their  good  fortune,  or  strayed  by 
day  in  the  narrow  isle,  gaping  like  Cockney  tourists; 
and  on  the  first  of  the  new  year,  the  Currency  Lass 
weighed  anchor  for  the  second  time  and  set  sail  for 
'Frisco,  attended  by  the  same  fine  weather  and  good 
luck.  She  crossed  the  doldrums  with  but  small  delay; 
on  a  wind  and  in  ballast  of  broken  coral,  she  outdid  ex- 
pectations ;  and  what  added  to  the  happiness  of  the  ship's 
company,  the  small  amount  of  work  that  fell  on  them  to 
do,  was  now  lessened  by  the  presence  of  another  hand. 
This  was  the  boatswain  of  the  Leslie;  he  had  been  on  bad 
terms  with  his  own  captain,  had  already  spent  his  wages 

428 


THE   BUDGET   OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

in  the  saloons  of  Butaritari,  had  wearied  of  the  place, 
and  while  all  his  shipmates  coldly  refused  to  set  foot  on 
board  the  Currency  Lass,  he  had  offered  to  work  his 
passage  to  the  coast.  He  was  a  north  of  Ireland  man, 
between  Scotch  and  Irish,  rough,  loud,  humorous,  and 
emotional,  not  without  sterling  qualities,  and  an  expert 
and  careful  sailor.  His  frame  of  mind  was  different 
indeed  from  that  of  his  new  shipmates;  instead  of  mak- 
ing an  unexpected  fortune,  he  had  lost  a  berth;  and  he 
was  besides  disgusted  with  the  rations,  and  really  ap- 
palled at  the  condition  of  the  schooner.  A  stateroom 
door  had  stuck,  the  first  day  at  sea,  and  Mac  (as  they 
called  him)  laid  his  strength  to  it  and  plucked  it  from 
the  hinges. 

"  Glory!  "  said  he,  "  this  ship's  rotten." 

"I  believe  you,  my  boy,"  said  Captain  Wicks. 

The  next  day  the  sailor  was  observed  with  his  nose 
aloft. 

"Don't  you  get  looking  at  these  sticks,"  the  captain 
said,  "or  you'll  have  a  fit  and  fall  overboard." 

Mac  turned  towards  the  speaker  with  rather  a  wild 
eye.  "Why,  I  see  what  looks  like  a  patch  of  dry 
rot  up  yonder,  that  I  bet  I  could  stick  my  fist  into," 
said  he. 

"  Looks  as  if  a  fellow  could  stick  his  head  into  it,  don't 
it  ?  "  returned  Wicks.  ' '  But  there's  no  good  prying  into 
things  that  can't  be  mended." 

M  I  think  I  was  a  Currency  Ass  to  come  on  board  of 
her!"  reflected  Mac. 

"  Well,  I  never  said  she  was  seaworthy,"  replied  the 
captain :  "  I  only  said  she  could  show  her  blooming  heels 
to  anything  afloat.     And  besides,  I  don't  know  that  it's 

429 


THE   WRECKER 

dry  rot;  I  kind  of  sometimes  hope  it  isn't.  Here;  turn 
to  and  heave  the  log;  that'll  cheer  you  up." 

"Well,  there's  no  denying  it,  you're  a  holy  captain," 
said  Mac. 

And  from  that  day  on,  he  made  but  the  one  reference 
to  the  ship's  condition ;  and  that  was  whenever  Tommy 
drew  upon  his  cellar.  "Here's  to  the  junk  trade!  "  he 
would  say,  as  he  held  out  his  can  of  sherry. 

"Why  do  you  always  say  that ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"I  had  an  uncle  in  the  business/'  replied  Mac,  and 
launched  at  once  into  a  yarn,  in  which  an  incredible 
number  of  the  characters  were  "laid  out  as  nice  as  you 
would  want  to  see,"  and  the  oaths  made  up  about  two- 
fifths  of  every  conversation. 

Only  once  he  gave  them  a  taste  of  his  violence;  he 
talked  of  it,  indeed,  often;  "  I'm  rather  a  voilent  man," 
he  would  say,  not  without  pride;  but  this  was  the 
only  specimen.  Of  a  sudden,  he  turned  on  Hemstead  in 
the  ship's  waist,  knocked  him  against  the  foresail  boom, 
then  knocked  him  under  it,  and  had  set  him  up  and 
knocked  him  down  once  more,  before  any  one  had  drawn 
a  breath. 

' '  Here !  Belay  that ! "  roared  Wicks,  leaping  to  his  feet. 
1 '  I  won't  have  none  of  this. " 

Mac  turned  to  the  captain  with  ready  civility.  "I 
only  want  to  learn  him  manners,"  said  he.  "  He  took 
and  called  me  Irishman." 

' '  Did  he  ?  "  said  Wicks.  ' « O,  that's  a  different  story ! 
What  made  you  do  it,  you  tomfool?  You  ain't  big 
enough  to  call  any  man  that." 

"I  didn't  call  him  it,"  spluttered  Hemstead,  through 
his  blood  and  tears.     "  I  only  mentioned-like  he  was.'1 

430 


THE   BUDGET  OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

"Well,  let's  have  no  more  of  it,"  said  Wicks. 

"  But  you  are  Irish,  ain't  you  ?  "  Carthew  asked  of  his 
new  shipmate  shortly  after. 

"I  may  be,"  replied  Mac,  "but  I'll  allow  no  Sydney 
duck  to  call  me  so.  No,"  he  added,  with  a  sudden 
heated  countenance,  "nor  any  Britisher  that  walks! 
Why,  look  here,"  he  went  on,  "you're  a  young  swell, 
aren't  you?  Suppose  I  called  you  that!  'I'll  show 
you,7  you  would  say,  and  turn  to  and  take  it  out  of  me 
straight." 

On  the  28th  of  January,  when  in  lat.  270  20'  N.,  long. 
1 770  W.,  the  wind  chopped  suddenly  into  the  west,  not 
very  strong,  but  puffy  and  with  flaws  of  rain.  The  cap- 
tain, eager  for  easting,  made  a  fair  wind  of  it  and  guyed 
the  booms  out  wing  and  wing.  It  was  Tommy's  trick 
at  the  wheel,  and  as  it  was  within  half  an  hour  of  the 
relief  (seven  thirty  in  the  morning),  the  captain  judged 
it  not  worth  while  to  change  him. 

The  puffs  were  heavy  but  short;  there  was  nothing 
to  be  called  a  squall,  no  danger  to  the  ship,  and  scarce 
more  than  usual  to  the  doubtful  spars.  All  hands  were 
on  deck  in  their  oilskins,  expecting  breakfast;  the  gal- 
ley smoked,  the  ship  smelt  of  coffee,  all  were  in  good 
humour  to  be  speeding  eastward  a  full  nine;  when  the 
rotten  foresail  tore  suddenly  between  two  cloths  and 
then  split  to  either  hand.  It  was  for  all  the  world  as 
though  some  archangel  with  a  huge  sword  had  slashed 
it  with  the  figure  of  a  cross ;  all  hands  ran  to  secure  the 
slatting  canvas;  and  in  the  sudden  uproar  and  alert, 
Tommy  Hadden  lost  his  head.  Many  of  his  days  have 
been  passed  since  then  in  explaining  how  the  thing  hap- 
pened; of  these  explanations  it  will  be  sufficient  to  say 

431 


THE  WRECKER 

that. they  were  all  different  and  none  satisfactory;  and 
the  gross  fact  remains  that  the  main  boom  gybed,  car- 
ried away  the  tackle,  broke  the  mainmast  some  three 
feet  above  the  deck  and  whipped  it  overboard.  For 
near  a  minute  the  suspected  foremast  gallantly  resisted ; 
then  followed  its  companion ;  and  by  the  time  the  wreck 
was  cleared,  of  the  whole  beautiful  fabric  that  enabled 
them  to  skim  the  seas,  two  ragged  stumps  remained. 

In  these  vast  and  solitary  waters,  to  be  dismasted  is 
perhaps  the  worst  calamity.  Let  the  ship  turn  turtle 
and  go  down,  and  at  least  the  pang  is  over.  But  men 
chained  on  a  hulk  may  pass  months  scanning  the  empty 
sea  line  and  counting  the  steps  of  death's  invisible  ap- 
proach. There  is  no  help  but  in  the  boats,  and  what  a 
help  is  that!  There  heaved  the  Currency  Lass,  for  in- 
stance, a  wingless  lump,  and  the  nearest  human  coast 
(that  of  Kauai  in  the  Sandwiches)  lay  about  a  thousand 
miles  to  south  and  east  of  her.  Over  the  way  there, 
to  men  contemplating  that  passage  in  an  open  boat,  all 
kinds  of  misery,  and  the  fear  of  death  and  of  madness, 
brooded. 

A  serious  company  sat  down  to  breakfast;  but  the 
captain  helped  his  neighbours  with  a  smile. 

"Now,  boys,"  he  said,  after  a  pull  at  the  hot  coffee, 
"we're  done  with  this  Currency  Lass,  and  no  mistake. 
One  good  job :  we  made  her  pay  while  she  lasted,  and 
she  paid  first  rate;  and  if  we  care  to  try  our  hand 
again,  we  can  try  in  style.  Another  good  job:  we  have 
a  fine,  stiff,  roomy  boat,  and  you  know  who  you  have 
to  thank  for  that.  We've  got  six  lives  to  save,  and 
a  pot  of  money:  and  the  point  is,  where  are  we  to 
take  'em  ?" 

432 


THE  BUDGET   OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

"It's  all  two  thousand  miles  to  the  nearest  of  the 
Sandwiches,  I  fancy,"  observed  Mac. 

' '  No,  not  so  bad  as  that, "  returned  the  captain.  • '  But 
it's  bad  enough:  rather  better'n  a  thousand." 

"  I  know  a  man  who  once  did  twelve  hundred  in  a 
boat,"  said  Mac,  "and  he  had  all  he  wanted.  He 
fetched  ashore  in  the  Marquesas,  and  never  set  a  foot 
on  anything  floating  from  that  day  to  this.  He  said  he 
would  rather  put  a  pistol  to  his  head  and  knock  his 
brains  out." 

"  Ay,  ay!  "  said  Wicks.  "Well  I  remember  a  boat's 
crew  that  made  this  very  island  of  Kauai,  and  from  just 
about  where  we  lie,  or  a  bit  further.  When  they  got 
up  with  the  land,  they  were  clean  crazy.  There  was  an 
iron-bound  coast  and  an  Old  Bob  Ridley  of  a  surf  on. 
The  natives  hailed  'em  from  fishing-boats,  and  sung  out 
it  couldn't  be  done  at  the  money.  Much  they  cared! 
there  was  the  land,  that  was  all  they  knew;  and  they 
turned  to  and  drove  the  boat  slap  ashore  in  the  thick  of 
it,  and  was  all  drowned  but  one.  No;  boat  trips  are 
my  eye,"  concluded  the  captain,  gloomily. 

The  tone  was  surprising  in  a  man  of  his  indomitable 
temper.  "Come,  Captain,"  said  Carthew,  "you  have 
something  else  up  your  sleeve;  out  with  it." 

"It's  a  fact,"  admitted  Wicks.  "You  see  there's  a 
raft  of  little  bally  reefs  about  here,  kind  of  chicken- 
pox  on  the  chart.  Well,  I  looked  'em  all  up,  and  there's 
one  —  Midway  or  Brooks  they  call  it,  not  forty  mile 
from  our  assigned  position  —  that  I  got  news  of.  It 
turns  out  it's  a  coaling  station  of  the  Pacific  Mail,"  he 
said,  simply. 

"Well,    and   I   know  it  ain't   no   such    a   thing," 

433 


THE   WRECKER 

said  Mac.  "I  been  quartermaster  in  that  line  my- 
self." 

'•'All  right,"  returned  Wicks.  "There's  the  book. 
Read  what  Hoyt  says  —  read  it  aloud  and  let  the  others 
hear." 

Hoyt's  falsehood  (as  readers  know)  was  explicit;  in- 
credulity was  impossible,  and  the  news  itself  delightful 
beyond  hope.  Each  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  the  boat  draw 
in  to  a  trim  island  with  a  wharf,  coal-sheds,  gardens, 
the  Stars  and  Stripes  and  the  white  cottage  of  the 
keeper;  saw  themselves  idle  a  few  weeks  in  tolerable 
quarters,  and  then  step  on  board  the  China  mail,  ro- 
mantic waifs,  and  yet  with  pocketsful  of  money,  call- 
ing for  champagne  and  waited  on  by  troops  of  stewards. 
Breakfast,  that  had  begun  so  dully,  ended  amid  sober 
jubilation,  and  all  hands  turned  immediately  to  prepare 
the  boat. 

Now  that  all  spars  were  gone,  it  was  no  easy  job  to 
get  her  launched.  Some  of  the  necessary  cargo  was  first 
stowed  on  board ;  the  specie,  in  particular,  being  packed 
in  a  strong  chest  and  secured  with  lashings  to  the  after- 
thwart  in  case  of  a  capsize.  Then  a  piece  of  the  bulwark 
was  razed  to  the  level  of  the  deck,  and  the  boat  swung 
thwart-ship,  made  fast  with  a  slack-line  to  either  stump, 
and  successfully  run  out.  For  a  voyage  of  forty  miles 
to  hospitable  quarters,  not  much  food  or  water  was  re- 
quired ;  but  they  took  both  in  superfluity.  Amalu  and 
Mac,  both  ingrained  sailor-men,  had  chests  which  were 
the  headquarters  of  their  lives;  two  more  chests  with 
hand-bags,  oilskins,  and  blankets  supplied  the  others; 
Hadden,  amid  general  applause,  added  the  last  case  of 
the  brown  sherry;  the  captain  brought  the  log,  instru- 

434 


THE   BUDGET   OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

ments,  and  chronometer;  nor  did  Hemstead  forget  the 
banjo  or  a  pinned  handkerchief  of  Butaritari  shells. 

It  was  about  three  p.  m.  when  they  pushed  off,  and 
(the  wind  being  still  westerly)  fell  to  the  oars.  "Well, 
we've  got  the  guts  out  of  you/ ' '  was  the  captain's  nodded 
farewell  to  the  hulk  of  the  Currency  Lass,  which  pres- 
ently shrank  and  faded  in  the  sea.  A  little  after  a  calm 
succeeded  with  much  rain ;  and  the  first  meal  was  eaten, 
and  the  watch  below  lay  down  to  their  uneasy  slumber 
on  the  bilge  under  a  roaring  shower-bath.  The  twenty- 
ninth  dawned  overhead  from  out  of  ragged  clouds;  there 
is  no  moment  when  a  boat  at  sea  appears  so  trenchantly 
black  and  so  conspicuously  little;  and  the  crew  looked 
about  them  at  the  sky  and  water  with  a  thrill  of  loneli- 
ness and  fear.  With  sunrise  the  trade  set  in,  lusty  and 
true  to  the  point;  sail  was  made;  the  boat  flew;  and 
by  about  four  of  the  afternoon,  they  were  well  up  with 
the  closed  part  of  the  reef,  and  the  captain  standing  on 
the  thwart,  and  holding  by  the  mast,  was  studying  the 
island  through  the  binoculars. 

''Well,  and  where's  your  station  ?"  cried  Mac. 

"  I  don't  someway  pick  it  up,"  replied  the  captain. 

"No,  nor  never  will! "  retorted  Mac,  with  a  clang  of 
despair  and  triumph  in  his  tones. 

The  truth  was  soon  plain  to  all.  No  buoys,  no  bea- 
cons, no  lights,  no  coal,  no  station ;  the  castaways  pulled 
through  a  lagoon  and  landed  on  an  isle,  where  was  no 
mark  of  man  but  wreckwood,  and  no  sound  but  of  the 
sea.  For  the  sea-fowl  that  harboured  and  lived  there  at 
the  epoch  of  my  visit  were  then  scattered  into  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  ocean,  and  had  left  no  traces  of  their 
sojourn  besides  dropped  feathers  and  addled  eggs.     It 

435 


THE  WRECKER 

was  to  this  they  had  been  sent,  for  this  they  had  stooped 
all  night  over  the  dripping  oars,  hourly  moving  further 
from  relief.  The  boat,  for  as  small  as  it  was,  was  yet 
eloquent  of  the  hands  of  men,  a  thing  alone  indeed  upon 
the  sea  but  yet  in  itself  all  human,  and  the  isle,  for 
which  they  had  exchanged  it,  was  ingloriously  savage, 
a  place  of  distress,  solitude,  and  hunger  unrelieved. 
There  was  a  strong  glare  and  shadow  of  the  evening 
over  all ;  in  which  they  sat  or  lay,  not  speaking,  careless 
even  to  eat,  men  swindled  out  of  life  and  riches  by  a 
lying  book.  In  the  great  good  nature  of  the  whole 
party,  no  word  of  reproach  had  been  addressed  to  Had- 
den,  the  author  of  these  disasters.  But  the  new  blow 
was  less  magnanimously  borne,  and  many  angry  glances 
rested  on  the  captain. 

Yet  it  was  himself  who  roused  them  from  their  leth- 
argy. Grudgingly  they  obeyed,  drew  the  boat  beyond 
tide-mark,  and  followed  him  to  the  top  of  the  miserable 
islet,  whence  a  view  was  commanded  of  the  whole  wheel 
of  the  horizon,  then  part  darkened  under  the  coming 
night,  part  dyed  with  the  hues  of  the  sunset  and  popu- 
lous with  the  sunset  clouds.  Here  the  camp  was 
pitched  and  a  tent  run  up  with  the  oars,  sails,  and  mast. 
And  here  Amalu,  at  no  man's  bidding,  from  the  mere 
instinct  of  habitual  service,  built  a  fire  and  cooked  a 
meal.  Night  was  come,  and  the  stars  and  the  silver 
sickle  of  the  new  moon  beamed  overhead  before  the 
meal  was  ready.  The  cold  sea  shone  about  them, 
and  the  fire  glowed  in  their  faces,  as  they  ate. 
Tommy  had  opened  his  case,  and  the  brown  sherry 
went  the  round ;  but  it  was  long  before  they  came  to 
conversation. 

436 


THE   BUDGET  OF  THE   « CURRENCY   LASS" 

"Well,  is  it  to  be  Kauai  after  all?"  asked  Mac  sud- 
denly. 

"This  is  bad  enough  for  me,"  said  Tommy.  "Let's 
stick  it  out  where  we  are." 

"  Well,  I  can  tell  ye  one  thing, "  said  Mac,  "  if  ye  care 
to  hear  it.  When  I  was  in  the  China  mail,  we  once 
made  this  island.     It's  in  the  course  from  Honolulu." 

1 '  Deuce  it  is !  "  cried  Carthew.  ' '  That  settles  it,  then. 
Let's  stay.  We  must  keep  good  fires  going ;  and  there's 
plenty  wreck." 

"Lashings  of  wreck!  "  said  the  Irishman.  "There's 
nothing  here  but  wreck  and  coffin  boards." 

"But  we'll  have  to  make  a  proper  blyze,"  objected 
Hemstead.  "  You  can't  see  a  fire  like  this,  not  any  wye 
awye,  I  mean." 

"Can't  you?"  said  Carthew.     "Look  round." 

They  did,  and  saw  the  hollow  of  the  night,  the  bare 
bright  face  of  the  sea,  and  the  stars  regarding  them ; 
and  the  voices  died  in  their  bosoms  at  the  spectacle. 
In  that  huge  isolation,  it  seemed  they  must  be  visible 
from  China  on  the  one  hand  and  California  on  the  other. 

"My  God,  it's  dreary!"  whispered  Hemstead. 

"Dreary  ? "  cried  Mac,  and  fell  suddenly  silent. 

"It's  better  than  a  boat,  anyway,"  said  Hadden. 
"I've  had  my  bellyful  of  boat." 

"What  kills  me  is  that  specie!"  the  captain  broke 
out.  "Think  of  all  that  riches, — four  thousand  in  gold, 
bad  silver,  and  short  bills  —  all  found  money,  too!  — 
and  no  more  use  than  that  much  dung! " 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,"  said  Tommy.  "I  don't  like 
it  being  in  the  boat  —  I  don't  care  to  have  it  so  far 
away." 

437 


THE  WRECKER. 

"Why,  who's  to  take  it?"  cried  Mac,  with  a  guffaw 
of  evil  laughter. 

But  this  was  not  at  all  the  feeling  of  the  partners,  who 
rose,  clambered  down  the  isle,  brought  back  the  inesti- 
mable treasure-chest  slung  upon  two  oars,  and  set  it 
conspicuous  in  the  shining  of  the  fire. 

"There's  my  beauty! "  cried  Wicks,  viewing  it  with 
a  cocked  head.  "  That's  better  than  a  bonfire.  What ! 
we  have  a  chest  here,  and  bills  for  close  upon  two  thou- 
sand pounds;  there's  no  show  to  that, —  it  would  go  in 
your  vest  pocket, — but  the  rest !  upwards  of  forty  pounds 
avoirdupois  of  coined  gold,  and  close  on  two  hundred- 
weight of  Chile  silver!  What!  ain't  that  good  enough 
to  fetch  a  fleet  ?  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  won't  affect 
a  ship's  compass  ?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  the  lookout 
won't  turn  to  and  smell  it  ?  "  he  cried. 

Mac,  who  had  no  part  nor  lot  in  the  bills,  the  forty 
pounds  of  gold,  or  the  two  hundredweight  of  silver, 
heard  this  with  impatience,  and  fell  into  a  bitter,  chok- 
ing laughter.  "  You'll  see!  "  he  said,  harshly.  "You'll 
be  glad  to  feed  them  bills  into  the  fire  before  you're 
through  with  ut!  "  And  he  turned,  passed  by  himself 
out  of  the  ring  of  the  firelight,  and  stood  gazing  sea- 
ward. 

His  speech  and  his  departure  extinguished  instantly 
those  sparks  of  better  humour  kindled  by  the  dinner  and 
the  chest.  The  group  fell  again  to  an  ill-favoured 
silence,  and  Hemstead  began  to  touch  the  banjo,  as  was 
his  habit  of  an  evening.  His  repertory  was  small:  the 
chords  of  Home,  Sweet  Home  fell  under  his  fingers ;  and 
when  he  had  played  the  symphony,  he  instinctively 
raised  up  his  voice.     "  Be  it  never  so  'umble,  there's  no 

438 


THE   BUDGET   OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

plyce  like  'ome,"  he  sang.  The  last  word  was  still 
upon  his  lips,  when  the  instrument  was  snatched  from 
him  and  dashed  into  the  fire;  and  he  turned  with  a  cry 
to  look  into  the  furious  countenance  of  Mac. 

"I'll  be  damned  if  I  stand  this!"  cried  the  captain, 
leaping  up  belligerent. 

"I  told  ye  I  was  a  voilent  man/'  said  Mac,  with  a 
movement  of  deprecation  very  surprising  in  one  of  his 
character.  "Why  don't  he  give  me  a  chance,  then? 
Haven't  we  enough  to  bear  the  way  we  are  ?  "  And  to 
the  wonder  and  dismay  of  all,  the  man  choked  upon  a 
sob.  "  It's  ashamed  of  meself  I  am,"  he  said  presently, 
his  Irish  accent  twenty-fold  increased.  "  I  ask  all  your 
pardons  for  me  voilence;  and  especially  the  little  man's, 
who  is  a  harmless  crayture,  and  here's  me  hand  to'm,  if 
he'll  condescind  to  take  me  by't." 

So  this  scene  of  barbarity  and  sentimentalism  passed 
off,  leaving  behind  strange  and  incongruous  impres- 
sions. True,  every  one  was  perhaps  glad  when  silence 
succeeded  that  all  too  appropriate  music;  true,  Mac's 
apology  and  subsequent  behaviour  rather  raised  him  in 
the  opinion  of  his  fellow-castaways.  But  the  discordant 
note  had  been  struck,  and  its  harmonics  tingled  in  the 
brain.  In  that  savage,  houseless  isle,  the  passions  of 
man  had  sounded,  if  only  for  the  moment,  and  all  men 
trembled  at  the  possibilities  of  horror. 

It  was  determined  to  stand  watch  and  watch  in  case 
of  passing  vessels ;  and  Tommy,  on  fire  with  an  idea, 
volunteered  to  stand  the  first.  The  rest  crawled  under 
the  tent,  and  were  soon  enjoying  that  comfortable  gift 
of  sleep,  which  comes  everywhere  and  to  all  men, 
quenching  anxieties  and  speeding  time.     And  no  sooner 

439 


THE   WRECKER. 

were  all  settled,  no  sooner  had  the  drone  of  man} 
snorers  begun  to  mingle  with  and  overcome  the  surf, 
than  Tommy  stole  from  his  post  with  the  case  of 
sherry,  and  dropped  it  in  a  quiet  cove  in  a  fathom  of 
water.  But  the  stormy  inconstancy  of  Mac's  behaviour 
had  no  connection  with  a  gill  or  two  of  wine ;  his  pas- 
sions, angry  and  otherwise,  were  on  a  different  sail  plan 
from  his  neighbours';  and  there  were  possibilities  of 
good  and  evil  in  that  hybrid  Celt  beyond  their  prophecy. 

About  two  in  the  morning,  the  starry  sky —  or  so  it 
seemed,  for  the  drowsy  watchman  had  not  observed 
the  approach  of  any  cloud  —  brimmed  over  in  a  deluge ; 
and  for  three  days  it  rained  without  remission.  The 
islet  was  a  sponge,  the  castaways  sops;  the  view  all 
gone,  even  the  reef  concealed  behind  the  curtain  of  the 
falling  water.  The  fire  was  soon  drowned  out;  after  a 
couple  of  boxes  of  matches  had  been  scratched  in  vain, 
it  was  decided  to  wait  for  better  weather ;  and  the  party 
lived  in  wretchedness  on  raw  tins  and  a  ration  of  hard 
bread. 

By  the  2d  February,  in  the  dark  hours  of  the  morning 
watch,  the  clouds  were  all  blown  by;  the  sun  rose 
glorious ;  and  once  more  the  castaways  sat  by  a  quick 
fire,  and  drank  hot  coffee  with  the  greed  of  brutes  and 
sufferers.  Thenceforward  their  affairs  moved  in  a 
routine.  A  fire  was  constantly  maintained;  and  this 
occupied  one  hand  continuously,  and  the  others  for  an 
hour  or  so  in  the  day.  Twice  a  day,  all  hands  bathed 
in  the  lagoon,  their  chief,  almost  their  only  pleasure. 
Often  they  fished  in  the  lagoon  with  good  success.  And 
the  rest  was  passed  in  lolling,  strolling,  yarns,  and  dis- 
putation.    The  time  of  the  China  steamers  was  calcu- 

440 


THE  BUDGET   OF   THE   "CURRENCY   LASS" 

Iated  to  a  nicety ;  which  done,  the  thought  was  rejected 
and  ignored.  It  was  one  that  would  not  bear  considera- 
tion. The  boat  voyage  having  been  tacitly  set  aside, 
the  desperate  part  chosen  to  wait  there  for  the  coming 
of  help  or  of  starvation,  no  man  had  courage  left  to  look 
his  bargain  in  the  face,  far  less  to  discuss  it  with  his 
neighbours.  But  the  unuttered  terror  haunted  them ;  in 
every  hour  of  idleness,  at  every  moment  of  silence,  it 
returned,  and  breathed  a  chill  about  the  circle,  and  car- 
ried men's  eyes  to  the  horizon.  Then,  in  a  panic  of 
self-defence,  they  would  rally  to  some  other  subject. 
And,  in  that  lone  spot,  what  else  was  to  be  found  to 
speak  of  but  the  treasure  ? 

That  was  indeed  the  chief  singularity,  the  one  thing 
conspicuous  in  their  island  life;  the  presence  of  that 
chest  of  bills  and  specie  dominated  the  mind  like  a 
cathedral;  and  there  were  besides  connected  with  it,  cer- 
tain irking  problems  well  fitted  to  occupy  the  idle.  Two 
thousand  pounds  were  due  to  the  Sydney  firm:  two 
thousand  pounds  were  clear  profit,  and  fell  to  be  divided 
in  varying  proportions  among  five.  It  had  been  agreed 
how  the  partners  were  to  range ;  every  pound  of  capital 
subscribed,  every  pound  that  fell  due  in  wages,  was  to 
count  for  one  "lay."  Of  these,  Tommy  could  claim 
five  hundred  and  ten,  Carthew  one  hundred  and  seventy, 
Wicks  one  hundred  and  forty,  and  Hemstead  and  Amalu 
ten  apiece:  eight  hundred  and  forty  "lays"  in  ail. 
What  was  the  value  of  a  lay  ?  This  was  at  first  debated 
in  the  air  and  chiefly  by  the  strength  of  Tommy's  lungs. 
Then  followed  a  series  of  incorrect  calculations ;  from 
which  they  issued,  arithmetically  foiled,  but  agreed  from 
weariness  upon  an  approximate  value  of  £2  js.  7%d. 

44 1 


THE   WRECKER 

The  figures  were  admittedly  incorrect;  the  sum  of  the 
shares  came  not  to  ^2000,  but  to  ^1996  6s. :  £3  145. 
being  thus  left  unclaimed.  But  it  was  the  nearest  they 
had  yet  found,  and  the  highest  as  well,  so  that  the 
partners  were  made  the  less  critical  by  the  contempla- 
tion of  their  splendid  dividends.  Wicks  put  in  ^"ioo 
and  stood  to  draw  captain's  wages  for  two  months;  his 
taking  was  £}}}  }s.  6^d.  Carthew  had  put  in  ^150: 
he  was  to  take  out  ^401  185.  6}4d.  Tommy's  ^£500 
had  grown  to  be  £1213  125.  ^Y\d.\  and  Amalu  and 
Hemstead,  ranking  for  wages  only,  had  £22  \6s.  oj4d., 
each. 

From  talking  and  brooding  on  these  figures,  it  was  but 
a  step  to  opening  the  chest;  and  once  the  chest  open, 
the  glamour  of  the  cash  was  irresistible.  Each  felt  that 
he  must  see  his  treasure  separate  with  the  eye  of  flesh, 
handle  it  in  the  hard  coin,  mark  it  for  his  own,  and 
stand  forth  to  himself  the  approved  owner.  And  here 
an  insurmountable  difficulty  barred  the  way.  There 
were  some  seventeen  shillings  in  English  silver:  the  rest 
was  Chile;  and  the  Chile  dollar,  which  had  been  taken 
at  the  rate  of  six  to  the  pound  sterling,  was  practically 
their  smallest  coin.  It  was  decided,  therefore,  to  divide 
the  pounds  only,  and  to  throw  the  shillings,  pence,  and 
fractions  in  a  common  fund.  This,  with  the  three  pound 
fourteen  already  in  the  heel,  made  a  total  of  seven  pounds 
one  shilling. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  Wicks.  "Let  Carthew  and 
Tommy  and  me  take  one  pound  apiece,  and  Hemstead 
and  Amalu  split  the  other  four,  and  toss  up  for  the  odd 
bob." 

"  O,  rot!  "  said  Carthew.  "Tommy  and  I  are burst- 
442 


THE   BUDGET   OF   THE   "CURRENCY    LASS" 

ing  already.  We  can  take  half  a  sov'  each,  and  let  the 
other  three  have  forty  shillings." 

"  I'll  tell  you  now  —  it's  not  worth  splitting,"  broke 
in  Mac.  "  I've  cards  in  my  chest.  Why  don't  you  play 
for  the  slump  sum  ?  " 

In  that  idle  place,  the  proposal  was  accepted  with 
delight.  Mac,  as  the  owner  of  the  cards,  was  given  a 
stake;  the  sum  was  played  for  in  five  games  of  crib- 
bage ;  and  when  Amalu,  the  last  survivor  in  the  tourna- 
ment, was  beaten  by  Mac,  it  was  found  the  dinner  hour 
was  past.  After  a  hasty  meal,  they  fell  again  imme- 
diately to  cards,  this  time  (on  Carthew's  proposal)  to 
Van  John.  It  was  then  probably  two  p.  m.  of  the  9th 
February;  and  they  played  with  varying  chances  for 
twelve  hours,  slept  heavily,  and  rose  late  on  the  mor- 
row to  resume  the  game.  All  day  of  the  10th,  with 
grudging  intervals  for  food,  and  with  one  long  absence 
on  the  part  of  Tommy  from  which  he  returned  dripping 
with  the  case  of  sherry,  they  continued  to  deal  and 
stake.  Night  fell :  they  drew  the  closer  to  the  fire.  It 
was  maybe  two  in  the  morning,  and  Tommy  was  sell- 
ing his  deal  by  auction,  as  usual  with  that  timid  player; 
when  Carthew,  who  didn't  intend  to  bid,  had  a  mo- 
ment of  leisure  and  looked  round  him.  He  beheld  the 
moonlight  on  the  sea,  the  money  piled  and  scattered  in 
that  incongruous  place,  the  perturbed  faces  of  the  play- 
ers; he  felt  in  his  own  breast  the  familiar  tumult;  and 
it  seemed  as  if  there  rose  in  his  ears  a  sound  of  music, 
and  the  moon  seemed  still  to  shine  upon  a  sea,  but  the 
sea  was  changed,  and  the  Casino  towered  from  among 
lamplit  gardens,  and  the  money  clinked  on  the  green 
board.     "Good  God!"  he  thought,  "am  I  gambling 

443 


THE   WRECKER 

again  ?  "  He  looked  the  more  curiously  about  the  sandy 
table.  He  and  Mac  had  played  and  won  like  gamblers; 
the  mingled  gold  and  silver  lay  by  their  places  in  the 
heap.  Amalu  and  Hemstead  had  each  more  than 
held  their  own;  but  Tommy  was  cruel  far  to  lee- 
ward, and'  the  captain  was  reduced  to  perhaps  fifty 
pounds. 

"  I  say,  let's  knock  off,"  said  Carthew. 

"Give  that  man  a  glass  of  Buckle,"  said  some  one, 
and  a  fresh  bottle  was  opened,  and  the  game  went  in- 
exorably on. 

Carthew  was  himself  too  heavy  a  winner  to  with- 
draw or  to  say  more;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  night  he 
must  look  on  at  the  progress  of  this  folly,  and  make 
gallant  attempts  to  lose  with  the  not  uncommon  conse- 
quence of  winning  more.  The  first  dawn  of  the  i  ith 
February  found  him  well-nigh  desperate.  It  chanced 
he  was  then  dealer,  and  still  winning.  He  had  just 
dealt  a  round  of  many  tens;  every  one  had  staked 
heavily;  the  captain  had  put  up  all  that  remained  to 
him,  twelve  pounds  in  gold  and  a  few  dollars;  and 
Carthew,  looking  privately  at  his  cards  before  he  showed 
them,  found  he  held  a  natural. 

"See  here,  you  fellows,"  he  broke  out,  "this  is  a 
sickening  business,  and  I'm  done  with  it  for  one."  So 
saying,  he  showed  his  cards,  tore  them  across,  and  rose 
from  the  ground. 

The  company  stared  and  murmured  in  mere  amaze- 
ment; but  Mac  stepped  gallantly  to  his  support. 

"We've  had  enough  of  it,  I  do  believe,"  said  he. 
' '  But  of  course  it  was  all  fun,  and  here's  my  counters 
back.     All  counters  in,  boys!"  and  he  began  to  pour 

444 


THE   BUDGET  OF  THE   "CURRENCY   LASS* 

his  winnings  into  the  chest,  which  stood  fortunately 
near  him. 

Carthew  stepped  across  and  wrung  him  by  the  hand. 
"  I'll  never  forget  this,"  he  said. 

"  And  what  are  ye  going  to  do  with  the  Highway  boy 
and  the  plumber  ?  "  inquired  Mac,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice. 
"They've  both  wan,  ye  see." 

"That's  true!"  said  Carthew  aloud.  "  Amalu  and 
Hemstead,  count  your  winnings;  Tommy  and  I  pay 
that." 

It  was  carried  without  speech :  the  pair  glad  enough 
to  receive  their  winnings,  it  mattered  not  from  whence ; 
and  Tommy,  who  had  lost  about  five  hundred  pounds, 
delighted  with  the  compromise. 

"And  how  about  Mac?"  asked  Hemstead.  "  Is  he 
to  lose  all  ?  " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  plumber.  I'm  sure  ye  mean 
well,"  returned  the  Irishman,  "but  you'd  better  shut 
your  face,  for  I'm  not  that  kind  of  a  man.  If  I  fought 
I  had  wan  that  money  fair,  there's  never  a  soul  here 
could  get  it  from  me.  But  I  fought  it  was  in  fun ;  that 
was  my  mistake,  ye  see ;  and  there's  no  man  big  enough 
upon  this  island  to  give  a  present  to  my  mother's  son. 
So  there's  my  opinion  to  ye,  plumber,  and  you  can  put 
it  in  your  pockut  till  required." 

"Well,  I  will  say,  Mac,  you're  a  gentleman,"  said 
Carthew,  as  he  helped  him  to  shovel  back  his  winnings 
into  the  treasure  chest. 

"Divil  a  fear  of  it,  sir!  a  drunken  sailor-man,"  said 
Mac. 

The  captain  had  sat  somewhile  with  his  face  in  his 
hands :  now  he  rose  mechanically,  shaking  and  stum- 

445 


THE  WRECKER 

bling  like  a  drunkard  after  a  debauch.  But  as  he  rose, 
his  face  was  altered,  and  his  voice  rang  out  over  the 
isle,  "Sail,  ho! " 

All  turned  at  the  cry,  and  there,  in  the  wild  light  of 
the  morning,  heading  straight  for  Midway  Reef,  was 
the  brig  Flying  Scud  of  Hull. 


44* 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

A    HARD    BARGAIN 

The  ship  which  thus  appeared  before  the  castaways 
had  long  "tramped"  the  ocean,  wandering  from  one 
port  to  another  as  freights  offered.  She  was  two  years 
out  from  London,  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  India, 
and  the  Archipelago ;  and  was  now  bound  for  San  Fran- 
cisco in  the  hope  of  working  homeward  round  the 
Horn.  Her  captain  was  one  Jacob  Trent.  He  had  re- 
tired some  five  years  before  to  a  suburban  cottage,  a 
patch  of  cabbages,  a  gig,  and  the  conduct  of  what  he 
called  a  Bank.  The  name  appears  to  have  been  mis- 
leading. Borrowers  were  accustomed  to  choose  works 
of  art  and  utility  in  the  front  shop ;  loaves  of  sugar  and 
bolts  of  broadcloth  were  deposited  in  pledge;  and  it 
was  a  part  of  the  manager's  duty  to  dash  in  his  gig  on 
Saturday  evenings  from  one  small  retailer's  to  another, 
and  to  annex  in  each  the  bulk  of  the  week's  takings. 
His  was  thus  an  active  life,  and  to  a  man  of  the  type  of 
a  rat,  filled  with  recondite  joys.  An  unexpected  loss,  a 
law  suit,  and  the  unintelligent  commentary  of  the  judge 
upon  the  bench,  combined  to  disgust  him  of  the  busi- 
ness. I  was  so  extraordinarily  fortunate  as  to  find,  in 
an  old  newspaper,  a  report  of  the  proceedings  in  Lyali 
v.   The  Cardiff  Mutual  Accommodation  Banking  Co. 

447 


THE   WRECKER 

"  I  confess  I  fail  entirely  to  understand  the  nature  of  the 
business,"  the  judge  had  remarked,  while  Trent  was 
being  examined  in  chief ;  a  little  after,  on  fuller  infor- 
mation—  "They  call  it  a  bank,"  he  had  opined,  "but 
it  seems  to  me  to  be  an  unlicensed  pawnshop  " ;  and 
he  wound  up  with  this  appalling  allocution:  "Mr. 
Trent,  1  must  put  you  on  your  guard ;  you  must  be  very 
careful,  or  we  shall  see  you  here  again."  In  the  inside 
of  a  week  the  captain  disposed  of  the  bank,  the  cottage, 
;md  the  gig  and  horse;  and  to  sea  again  in  the  Flying 
Scud,  where  he  did  well  and  gave  high  satisfaction  to 
his  owners.  But  the  glory  clung  to  him;  he  was  a 
plain  sailor-man,  he  said,  but  he  could  never  long  allow 
you  to  forget  that  he  had  been  a  banker. 

His  mate,  Elias  Goddedaal,  was  a  huge  viking  of  a 
man,  six  feet  three  and  of  proportionate  mass,  strong, 
sober,  industrious,  musical,  and  sentimental.  He  ran 
continually  over  into  Swedish  melodies,  chiefly  in  the 
minor.  He  had  paid  nine  dollars  to  hear  Patti;  to  hear 
Nilsson,  he  had  deserted  a  ship  and  two  months'  wages; 
and  he  was  ready  at  any  time  to  walk  ten  miles  for  a 
good  concert  or  seven  to  a  reasonable  play.  On  board 
he  had  three  treasures :  a  canary  bird,  a  concertina,  and 
a  blinding  copy  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare.  He  had 
a  gift,  peculiarly  Scandinavian,  of  making  friends  at 
sight:  an  elemental  innocence  commended  him;  he  was 
without  fear,  without  reproach,  and  without  money  or 
the  hope  of  making  it. 

Holdorsen  was  second  mate,  and  berthed  aft,  but 
messed  usually  with  the  hands. 

Of  one  more  of  the  crew,  some  image  lives.  This 
was  a  foremost  hand  out  of  the  Clyde,  of  the  name  of 

44^ 


A    HARD    BARGAIN 

Brown.  A  small,  dark,  thickset  creature,  with  dog's 
eyes,  of  a  disposition  incomparably  mild  and  harmless, 
he  knocked  about  seas  and  cities,  the  uncomplaining 
whiptop  of  one  vice.  "The  drink  is  my  trouble,  ye 
see,"  he  said  to  Carthew  shyly;  "and  it's  the  more 
shame  to  me  because  I'm  come  of  very  good  people  at 
Bowling  down  the  wa'er."  The  letter  that  so  much 
affected  Nares,  in  case  the  reader  should  remember  it, 
was  addressed  to  this  man  Brown. 

Such  was  the  ship  that  now  carried  joy  into  the 
bosoms  of  the  castaways.  After  the  fatigue  and  the 
bestial  emotions  of  their  night  of  play,  the  approach  of 
salvation  shook  them  from  all  self-control.  Their  hands 
trembled,  their  eyes  shone,  they  laughed  and  shouted 
like  children  as  they  cleared  their  camp:  and  some  one 
beginning  to  whistle  Marching  through  Georgia,  the 
remainder  of  the  packing  was  conducted,  amidst  a  thou- 
sand interruptions,  to  these  martial  strains.  But  the 
strong  head  of  Wicks  was  only  partly  turned. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "  easy  all!  We're  going  aboard  of 
a  ship  of  which  we  don't  know  nothing;  we've  got  a 
chest  of  specie,  and  seeing  the  weight,  we  can't  turn  to 
and  deny  it.  Now,  suppose  she  was  fishy ;  suppose  it 
was  some  kind  of  a  Bully  Hayes  business!  It's  my 
opinion  we'd  better  be  on  hand  with  the  pistols." 

Every  man  of  the  party  but  Hemstead  had  some  kind 
of  a  revolver;  these  were  accordingly  loaded  and  dis- 
posed about  the  persons  of  the  castaways,  and  the  pack- 
ing was  resumed  and  finished  in  the  same  rapturous 
spirit  as  it  was  begun.  The  sun  was  not  yet  ten  de- 
grees above  the  eastern  sea,  but  the  brig  was  already 
close  in  and  hove  to,  before  they  had   launched  the 

449 


THE   WRECKER 

boat  and  sped,  shouting  at  the  oars,  towards  the  pas- 
sage. 

It  was  blowing  fresh  outside  with  a  strong  send  ot 
sea.  The  spray  flew  in  the  oarsmen's  faces.  They  saw 
the  Union  Jack  blow  abroad  from  the  Flying  Scud,  the 
men  clustered  at  the  rail,  the  cook  in  the  galley  door, 
the  captain  on  the  quarter-deck  with  a  pith  helmet  and 
binoculars.  And  the  whole  familiar  business,  the  com- 
fort, company,  and  safety  of  a  ship,  heaving  nearer  at 
each  stroke,  maddened  them  with  joy. 

Wicks  was  the  first  to  catch  the  line,  and  swarm  on 
board,  helping  hands  grabbing  him  as  he  came  and 
hauling  him  across  the  rail. 

"Captain,  sir,  I  suppose?"  he  said,  turning  to  the 
hard  old  man  in  the  pith  helmet. 

"  Captain  Trent,  sir,"  returned  the  old  gentleman. 

"Well,  I'm  Captain  Kirkup,  and  this  is  the  crew  of 
the  Sydney  schooner,  Currency  Lass,  dismasted  at  sea 
January  28th." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  said  Trent.  "Well,  you're  all  right  now. 
Lucky  for  you  I  saw  your  signal.  I  didn't  know  I  was 
so  near  this  beastly  island,  there  must  be  a  drift  to  the 
south'ard  here;  and  when  I  came  on  deck  this  morning 
at  eight  bells,  I  thought  it  was  a  ship  afire." 

It  had  been  agreed  that,  while  Wicks  was  to  board 
the  ship  and  do  the  civil,  the  rest  were  to  remain  in  the 
whaleboat  and  see  the  treasure  safe.  A  tackle  was 
passed  down  to  them;  to  this  they  made  fast  the  in- 
valuable chest,  and  gave  the  word  to  heave.  But  the 
unexpected  weight  brought  the  hand  at  the  tackle  to 
a  stand;  two  others  ran  to  tail  on  and  help  him;  and 
the  thing  caught  the  eye  of  Trent. 

450 


A    HARD    BARGAIN 

"'Vast  heaving!"  he  cried  sharply;  and  then  to 
Wicks:  "What's  that?  I  don't  ever  remember  to  have 
seen  a  chest  weigh  like  that." 

"  It's  money,"  said  Wicks. 

"  It's  what?"  cried  Trent. 

"  Specie,"  said  Wicks;  "  saved  from  the  wreck." 

Trent  looked  at  him  sharply.  "  Here,  let  go  that 
chest  again,  Mr.  Goddedaal,"  he  commanded,  "shove 
the  boat  off,  and  stream  her  with  a  line  astern." 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!"  from  Goddedaal. 

"  What  the  devil's  wrong?"  asked  Wicks. 

"Nothing,  I  daresay,''  returned  Trent.  "But  you'll 
allow  it's  a  queer  thing  when  a  boat  turns  up  in  mid- 
ocean  with  half  a  ton  of  specie,— and  everybody  armed," 
he  added,  pointing  to  Wicks's  pocket.  "Your  boat 
will  lay  comfortably  astern,  while  you  come  below  and 
make  yourself  satisfactory." 

"  O,  if  that's  all !  "  said  Wicks.  ' '  My  log  and  papers 
are  as  right  as  the  mail;  nothing  fishy  about  us."  And 
he  hailed  his  friends  in  the  boat,  bidding  them  have  pa- 
tience, and  turned  to  follow  Captain  Trent. 

"This  way,  Captain  Kirkup,"  said  the  latter.  "And 
don't  blame  a  man  for  too  much  caution;  no  offence 
intended;  and  these  China  rivers  shake  a  fellow's 
nerve.  All  I  want  is  just  to  see  you're  what  you  say 
you  are;  it's  only  my  duty,  sir,  and  what  you  would 
do  yourself  in  the  circumstances.  I've  not  always 
been  a  ship-captain:  I  was  a  banker  once,  and  I  tell 
you  that's  the  trade  to  learn  caution  in.  You  have  to 
keep  your  weather-eye  lifting  Saturday  nights."  And 
with  a  dry,  business-like  cordiality,  he  produced  a  bot- 
tle of  gin. 

45  " 


THE   WRECKER 

The  captains  pledged  each  other;  the  papers  were 
overhauled ;  the  tale  of  Topelius  and  the  trade  was  told 
in  appreciative  ears  and  cemented  their  acquaintance. 
Trent's  suspicions,  thus  finally  disposed  of,  were  suc- 
ceeded by  a  fit  of  profound  thought,  during  which  he 
sat  lethargic  and  stern,  looking  at  and  drumming  on  the 
table. 

'Anything  more  ?  "  asked  Wicks. 

"What  sort  of  a  place  is  it  inside?"  inquired  Trent, 
sudden  as  though  Wicks  had  touched  a  spring. 

"It's  a  good  enough  lagoon  —  a  few  horses'  heads, 
but  nothing  to  mention,"  answered  Wicks. 

"I've  a  good  mind  to  go  in,"  said  Trent.  "I  was 
new  rigged  in  China;  it's  given  very  bad,  and  I'm  get- 
ting frightened  for  my  sticks.  We  could  set  it  up  as 
good  as  new  in  a  day.  For  I  daresay  your  lot  would 
turn  to  and  give  us  a  hand  ?  " 

"  You  see  if  we  don't!  "  said  Wicks. 

■ '  So  be  it  then, "  concluded  Trent.  ' '  A  stitch  in  time 
saves  nine." 

They  returned  on  deck ;  Wicks  cried  the  news  to  the 
Currency  Lasses;  the  foretopsail  was  filled  again,  and 
the  brig  ran  into  the  lagoon  lively,  the  whaleboat  danc- 
ing in  her  wake,  and  came  to  single  anchor  off  Middle 
Brooks  Island  before  eight.  She  was  boarded  by  the 
castaways,  breakfast  was  served,  the  baggage  slung  on 
board  and  piled  in  the  waist,  and  all  hands  turned  to 
upon  the  rigging.  All  day  the  work  continued,  the  two 
crews  rivalling  each  other  in  expense  of  streng'th.  Din- 
ner was  served  on  deck,  the  officers  messing  aft  under 
the  slack  of  the  spanker,  the  men  fraternising  forward. 
Trent  appeared  in  excellent  spirits,  served  out  grog  to 

452 


A    HARD    BARGAIN 

all  hands,  opened  a  bottle  of  Cape  wine  for  the  after- 
table,  and  obliged  his  guests  with  many  details  of  the 
life  of  a  financier  in  Cardiff.  He  had  been  forty  years  at 
sea,  had  five  times  suffered  shipwreck,  was  once  nine 
months  the  prisoner  of  a  pepper  rajah,  and  had  seen 
service  under  fire  in  Chinese  rivers ;  but  the  only  thing 
he  cared  to  talk  of,  the  only  thing  of  which  he  was  vain, 
or  with  which  he  thought  it  possible  to  interest  a 
stranger,  was  his  career  as  a  money-lender  in  the  slums 
of  a  seaport  town. 

The  afternoon  spell  told  cruelly  on  the  Currency 
Lasses.  Already  exhausted  as  they  were  with  sleep- 
lessness and  excitement,  they  did  the  last  hours  of  this 
violent  employment  on  bare  nerves;  and  when  Trent 
was  at  last  satisfied  with  the  condition  of  his  rigging, 
expected  eagerly  the  word  to  put  to  sea.  But  the  cap- 
tain seemed  in  no  hurry.  He  went  and  walked  by  him- 
self softly,  like  a  man  in  thought.  Presently  he  hailed 
Wicks. 

"You're  a  kind  of  company,  ain't  you,  Captain 
Kirkup  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,  we're  all  on  board  on  lays,"  was  the  reply. 

"Well,  then,  you  won't  mind  if  I  ask  the  lot  of  you 
down  to  tea  in  the  cabin  ?"  asked  Trent. 

Wicks  was  amazed,  but  he  naturally  ventured  no  re- 
mark; and  a  little  after,  the  six  Currency  Lasses  sat 
down  with  Trent  and  Goddedaal  to  a  spread  of  marma- 
lade, butter,  toast,  sardines,  tinned  tongue,  and  steam- 
ing tea.  The  food  was  not  very  good,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  Nares  would  have  reviled  it,  but  it  was  manna  to 
the  castaways.  Goddedaal  waited  on  them  with  a 
kindness  far  before  courtesy,  a  kindness  like  that  of 

453 


THE  WRECKER 

some  old,  honest  countrywoman  in  her  farm.  It  was 
remembered  afterwards  that  Trent  took  little  share  in 
these  attentions,  but  sat  much  absorbed  in  thought, 
and  seemed  to  remember  and  forget  the  presence  of  his 
guests  alternately. 

Presently  he  addressed  the  Chinaman. 

"Clear  out!"  said  he,  and  watched  him  till  he  had 
disappeared  in  the  stair.  "Now,  gentlemen,"  he  went 
on,  "1  understand  you're  a  joint-stock  sort  of  crew, 
and  that's  why  I've  had  you  all  down;  for  there's  a 
point  I  want  made  clear.  You  see  what  sort  of  a  ship 
this  is  —  a  good  ship,  though  I  say  it,  and  you  see  what 
the  rations  are  —  good  enough  for  sailor-men." 

There  was  a  hurried  murmur  of  approval,  but  curi- 
osity for  what  was  coming  next  prevented  an  articulate 
reply. 

"Well,"  continued  Trent,  making  bread  pills  and 
looking  hard  at  the  middle  of  the  table,  "  I'm  glad  of 
course  to  be  able  to  give  you  a  passage  to  'Frisco;  one 
sailor-man  should  help  another,  that's  my  motto.  But 
when  you  want  a  thing  in  this  world,  you  generally 
always  have  to  pay  for  it."  He  laughed  a  brief,  joyless 
laugh.     "I  have  no  idea  of  losing  by  my  kindness." 

"We  have  no  idea  you  should,  Captain,"  said  Wicks. 

"We  are  ready  to  pay  anything  in  reason,"  added 
Carthew. 

At  the  words,  Goddedaal,  who  sat  next  to  him, 
touched  him  with  his  elbow,  and  the  two  mates  ex- 
changed a  significant  look.  The  character  of  Captain 
Trent  was  given  and  taken  in  that  silent  second. 

"  In  reason  ?"  repeated  the  captain  of  the  brig.  "  I 
was  waiting  for  that.     Reason's  between  two  people, 

454 


A    HARD    BARGAIN 

and  there's  only  one  here.  I'm  the  judge;  I'm  reason. 
If  you  want  an  advance  you  have  to  pay  for  it " —  he 
hastily  corrected  himself — "If  you  want  a  passage  in 
my  ship,  you  have  to  pay  my  price,"  he  substituted. 
" That's  business,  I  believe.  I  don't  want  you;  you 
want  me." 

' '  Well,  sir, "  said  Carthew,  ' '  and  what  is  your  price  ?  " 

The  captain  made  bread  pills.  "  If  I  were  like  you," 
he  said,  "when  you  got  hold  of  that  merchant  in  the 
Gilberts,  I  might  surprise  you.  You  had  your  chance 
then;  seems  to  me  it's  mine  now.  Turn  about's  fair 
play.  What  kind  of  mercy  did  you  have  on  that  Gilbert 
merchant?"  he  cried,  with  a  sudden  stridency.  "Not 
that  I  blame  you.  All's  fair  in  love  and  business,"  and 
he  laughed  again,  a  little  frosty  giggle. 

"Well,  sir?"  said  Carthew,  gravely. 

"Well,  this  ship's  mine,  I  think  ?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"  Well,  I'm  of  that  way  of  thinking  meself,"  observed 
Mac. 

"I  say  it's  mine,  sir!"  reiterated  Trent,  like  a  man 
trying  to  be  angry.  "And  I  tell  you  all,  if  I  was  a 
driver  like  what  you  are,  I  would  take  the  lot.  But 
there's  two  thousand  pounds  there  that  don't  belong  to- 
you,  and  I'm  an  honest  man.  Give  me  the  two  thou- 
sand that's  yours,  and  I'll  give  you  a  passage  to  the 
coast,  and  land  every  man-jack  of  you  in  'Frisco  with 
fifteen  pounds  in  his  pocket,  and  the  captain  here  with 
twenty-five." 

Goddedaal  laid  down  his  head  on  the  table  like  a  man 
ashamed. 

"You're  joking,"  cried  Wicks,  purple  in  the  face. 

"Am  I  ?"  said  Trent.  "  Please  yourselves.  You're 
455 


THE  WRECKER 

under  no  compulsion.  This  ship's  mine,  but  there's 
that  Brooks  Island  don't  belong  to  me,  and  you  can  lay 
there  till  you  die  for  what  I  care." 

"  It's  more  than  your  blooming  brig's  worth!  "  cried 
Wicks. 

"  It's  my  price  anyway,"  returned  Trent. 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  say  you  would  land  us  there 
to  starve?"  cried  Tommy. 

Captain  Trent  laughed  the  third  time.  ''Starve?  I 
defy  you  to,"  said  he.  "I'll  sell  you  all  the  provisions 
you  want  at  a  fair  profit." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Mac,  "but  my  case 
is  by  itself.  I'm  working  me  passage;  I  got  no  share 
in  that  two  thousand  pounds  nor  nothing  in  my  pockut; 
and  I'll  be  glad  to  know  what  you  have  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  a  hard  man,"  said  Trent.  "That  shall  make 
no  difference.  I'll  take  you  with  the  rest,  only  of  course 
you  get  no  fifteen  pound." 

The  impudence  was  so  extreme  and  startling,  that  all 
breathed  deep,  and  Goddedaal  raised  up  his  face  and 
looked  his  superior  sternly  in  the  eye. 

But  Mac  was  more  articulate.  "And  you're  what  ye 
call  a  British  sayman,  I  suppose  ?  the  sorrow  in  your 
guts! "  he  cried. 

"One  more  such  word,  and  I  clap  you  in  irons!" 
said  Trent,  rising  gleefully  at  the  face  of  opposition. 

"And  where  would  I  be  while  you  were  doin'  ut?" 
asked  Mac.  "After  you  and  your  rigging,  too!  Ye 
ould  puggy,  ye  haven't  the  civility  of  a  bug,  and  I'll 
learn  ye  some." 

His  voice  did  not  even  rise  as  he  uttered  the  threat; 
no  man  present,  Trent  least  of  all,  expected  that  which 

456 


A    HARD    BARGAIN 

followed.  The  Irishman's  hand  rose  suddenly  from  be- 
low the  table,  an  open  clasp-knife  balanced  on  the  palm ; 
there  was  a  movement  swift  as  conjuring;  Trent  started 
half  to  his  feet,  turning  a  little  as  he  rose  so  as  to  escape 
the  table,  and  the  movement  was  his  bane.  The  mis- 
sile struck  him  in  the  jugular;  he  fell  forward,  and  his 
blood  flowed  among  the  dishes  on  the  cloth. 

The  suddenness  of  the  attack  and  the  catastrophe,  the 
instant  change  from  peace  to  war  and  from  life  to  death, 
held  all  men  spellbound.  Yet  a  moment  they  sat  about 
the  table  staring  open-mouthed  upon  the  prostrate  cap- 
tain and  the  flowing  blood.  The  next,  Goddedaal  had 
leaped  to  his  feet,  caught  up  the  stool  on  which  he  had 
been  sitting,  and  swung  it  high  in  air,  a  man  transfig- 
ured, roaring  (as  he  stood)  so  that  men's  ears  were 
stunned  with  it.  There  was  no  thought  of  battle  in  the 
Currency  Lasses;  none  drew  his  weapon;  all  huddled 
helplessly  from  before  the  face  of  the  baresark  Scandi- 
navian. His  first  blow  sent  Mac  to  ground  with  a 
broken  arm.  His  second  dashed  out  the  brains  of 
Hemstead.  He  turned  from  one  to  another,  menacing 
and  trumpeting  like  a  wounded  elephant,  exulting  in  his 
rage.  But  there  was  no  council,  no  light  of  reason,  in 
that  ecstasy  of  battle ;  and  he  shied  from  the  pursuit  of 
victory  to  hail  fresh  blows  upon  the  supine  Hemstead, 
so  that  the  stool  was  shattered  and  the  cabin  rang  with 
their  violence.  The  sight  of  that  post-mortem  cruelty 
recalled  Carthew  to  the  life  of  instinct,  and  his  revolver 
was  in  hand  and  he  had  aimed  and  fired  before  he  knew. 
The  ear-bursting  sound  of  the  report  was  accompanied 
by  a  yell  of  pain ;  the  colossus  paused,  swayed,  tottered, 
and  fell  headlong  on  the  body  of  his  victim. 

457 


THE  WRECKER 

In  the  instant  silence  that  succeeded,  the  sound  of 
feet  pounding  on  the  deck  and  in  the  companion  leaped 
into  hearing;  and  a  face,  that  of  the  sailor  Holdorsen, 
appeared  below  the  bulkheads  in  the  cabin  doorway. 
Carthew  shattered  it  with  a  second  shot,  for  he  was  a 
marksman. 

"  Pistols!  "  he  cried,  and  charged  at  the  companion, 
Wicks  at  his  heels,  Tommy  and  Amalu  following.  They 
trod  the  body  of  Holdorsen  underfoot,  and  flew  up-stairs 
and  forth  into  the  dusky  blaze  of  a  sunset  red  as  blood. 
The  numbers  were  still  equal,  but  the  Flying  Scuds 
dreamed  not  of  defence,  and  fled  with  one  accord  for  the 
forecastle  scuttle.  Brown  was  first  in  flight;  he  disap- 
peared below  unscathed ;  the  Chinaman  followed  head- 
foremost with  a  ball  in  his  side;  and  the  others  shinned 
into  the  rigging. 

A  fierce  composure  settled  upon  Wicks  and  Carthew, 
their  fighting  second  wind.  They  posted  Tommy  at  the 
fore  and  Amalu  at  the  main  to  guard  the  masts  and 
shrouds,  and  going  themselves  into  the  waist,  poured 
out  a  box  of  cartridges  on  deck  and  filled  the  chambers. 
The  poor  devils  aloft  bleated  aloud  for  mercy.  But  the 
hour  of  any  mercy  was  gone  by;  the  cup  was  brewed 
and  must  be  drunken  to  the  dregs;  since  so  many  had 
fallen,  all  must  fall.  The  light  was  bad,  the  cheap  re- 
volvers fouled  and  carried  wild,  the  screaming  wretches 
were  swift  to  flatten  themselves  against  the  masts  and 
yards  or  find  a  momentary  refuge  in  the  hanging  sails. 
The  fell  business  took  long,  but  it  was  done  at  last. 
Hardy  the  Londoner  was  shot  on  the  foreroyal  yard, 
and  hung  horribly  suspended  in  the  brails.  Wallen,  the 
other,  had  his  jaw  broken  on  the  maintop-gallant  cross- 

458 


A   HARD   BARGAIN 

trees,  and  exposed  himself,  shrieking,  till  a  second  shot 
dropped  him  on  the  deck. 

This  had  been  bad  enough,  but  worse  remained  be- 
hind. There  was  still  Brown  in  the  forepeak.  Tommy, 
with  a  sudden  clamour  of  weeping,  begged  for  his  life. 
"One  man  can't  hurt  us,"  he  sobbed.  "We  can't  go 
on  with  this.  I  spoke  to  him  at  dinner.  He's  an  awful 
decent  little  cad.  It  can't  be  done.  Nobody  can  go 
into  that  place  and  murder  him.  It's  too  damned 
wicked." 

The  sound  of  his  supplications  was  perhaps  audible  to 
the  unfortunate  below. 

"  One  left,  and  we  all  hang,"  said  Wicks.  "  Brown 
must  go  the  same  road."  The  big  man  was  deadly 
white  and  trembled  like  an  aspen;  and  he  had  no 
sooner  finished  speaking,  than  he  went  to  the  ship's 
side  and  vomited. 

"We  can  never  do  it  if  we  wait,"  said  Carthew. 
"Now  or  never,"  and  he  marched  towards  the  scuttle. 

"No,  no,  no !  "  wailed  Tommy,  clutching  at  his  jacket. 

But  Carthew  flung  him  off,  and  stepped  down  the 
ladder,  his  heart  rising  with  disgust  and  shame.  The 
Chinaman  lay  on  the  floor,  still  groaning ;  the  place  was 
pitch  dark. 

"  Brown ! "  cried  Carthew, "  Brown,  where  are  you  ?  " 

His  heart  smote  him  for  the  treacherous  apostrophe, 
but  no  answer  came. 

He  groped  in  the  bunks:  they  were  all  empty.  Then 
he  moved  towards  the  forepeak,  which  was  hampered 
with  coils  of  rope  and  spare  chandlery  in  general. 

"Brown!"  he  said  again. 

"  Here,  sir,"  answered  a  shaking  voice;  and  the  poor 

459 


THE   WRECKER 

invisible  caitiff  called  on  him  by  name,  and  poured  forth 
out  of  the  darkness  an  endless,  garrulous  appeal  for 
mercy.  A  sense  of  danger,  of  daring,  had  alone  nerved 
Carthew  to  enter  the  forecastle;  and  here  was  the  en 
emy  crying  and  pleading  like  a  frightened  child.  His 
obsequious  "Here,  sir,"  his  horrid  fluency  of  obtesta- 
tion, made  the  murder  tenfold  more  revolting.  Twice 
Carthew  raised  the  pistol,  once  he  pressed  the  triggei 
(or  thought  he  did)  with  all  his  might,  but  no  explosion 
followed;  and  with  that  the  lees  of  his  courage  r;m 
quite  out,  and  he  turned  and  fled  from  before  hi? 
victim. 

Wicks  sat  on  the  fore  hatch,  raised  the  face  of  a  mar, 
of  seventy,  and  looked  a  wordless  question.  Carthew 
shook  his  head.  With  such  composure  as  a  man  dis- 
plays marching  towards  the  gallows,  Wicks  arose, 
walked  to  the  scuttle,  and  went  down.  Brown  thought 
it  was  Carthew  returning,  and  discovered  himself,  half 
crawling  from  his  shelter,  with  another  incoherent  burst 
of  pleading.  Wicks  emptied  his  revolver  at  the  voice, 
which  broke  into  mouse-like  whimperings  and  groans. 
Silence  succeeded,  and  the  murderer  ran  on  deck  like 
one  possessed. 

The  other  three  were  now  all  gathered  on  the  fore 
hatch,  and  Wicks  took  his  place  beside  them  without 
question  asked  or  answered.  They  sat  close,  like  chil- 
dren in  the  dark,  and  shook  each  other  with  their  shak- 
ing. The  dusk  continued  to  fall ;  and  there  was  no  sound 
but  the  beating  of  the  surf  and  the  occasional  hiccup  of 
a  sob  from  Tommy  Hadden. 

"  God,  if  there  was  another  ship!  "  cried  Carthew  of 
a  sudden. 

460 


A   HARD   BARGAIN 

Wicks  started  and  looked  aloft  with  the  trick  of  all 
seamen,  and  shuddered  as  he  saw  the  hanging  figure  on 
the  royal  yard. 

''If  I  went  aloft,  I'd  fall,"  he  said  simply.  "I'm 
done  up." 

It  was  Amalu  who  volunteered,  climbed  to  the  very 
truck,  swept  the  fading  horizon,  and  announced  nothing 
within  sight. 

"No  odds,"  said  Wicks.     "We  can't  sleep    .    .    ." 

"Sleep!"  echoed  Carthew;  and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
whole  of  Shakespeare's  Macbeth  thundered  at  the  gallop 
through  his  mind. 

"Well,  then,  we  can't  sit  and  chitter  here,"  said 
Wicks,  "till  we've  cleaned  ship;  and  I  can't  turn  to  till 
I've  had  gin,  and  the  gin's  in  the  cabin,  and  who's  to 
fetch  it?" 

"I  will," said  Carthew,  "if  any  one  has  matches." 

Amalu  passed  him  a  box,  and  he  went  aft  and  down 
the  companion  and  into  the  cabin,  stumbling  upon 
bodies.  Then  he  struck  a  match,  and  his  looks  fell  upon 
two  living  eyes. 

"  Well  ?"  asked  Mac,  for  it  was  he  who  still  survived 
in  that  shambles  of  a  cabin. 

"  It's  done;  they're  all  dead,"  answered  Carthew. 

"Christ!"  said  the  Irishman,  and  fainted. 

The  gin  was  found  in  the  dead  captain's  cabin ;  it  was 
brought  on  deck,  and  all  hands  had  a  dram,  and  attacked 
their  farther  task.  The  night  was  come,  the  moon  would 
not  be  up  for  hours;  a  lamp  was  set  on  the  main  hatch 
to  light  Amalu  as  he  washed  down  decks ;  and  the  galley 
lantern  was  taken  to  guide  the  others  in  their  graveyard 
business.    Holdorsen,  Hemstead,  Trent,  and  Goddedaal 

401 


THE  WRECKER 

were  first  disposed  of,  the  last  still  breathing  as  he  went 
over  the  side ;  Wallen  followed ;  and  then  Wicks,  steadied 
by  the  gin,  went  aloft  with  a  boathook  and  succeeded  in 
dislodging  Hardy.  The  Chinaman  was  their  last  task; 
he  seemed  to  be  light-headed,  talked  aloud  in  his  un- 
known language  as  they  brought  him  up,  and  it  was 
only  with  the  splash  of  his  sinking  body  that  the  gib- 
berish ceased.  Brown,  by  common  consent,  was  left 
alone.     Flesh  and  blood  could  go  no  farther. 

All  this  time  they  had  been  drinking  undiluted  gin 
like  water;  three  bottles  stood  broached  in  different 
quarters;  and  none  passed  without  a  gulp.  Tommy 
collapsed  against  the  mainmast;  Wicks  fell  on  his  face 
on  the  poop  ladder  and  moved  no  more;  Amalu  had 
vanished  unobserved.  Carthew  was  the  last  afoot:  he 
stood  swaying  at  the  break  of  the  poop,  and  the  lantern, 
which  he  still  carried,  swung  with  his  movement.  His 
head  hummed;  it  swarmed  with  broken  thoughts; 
memory  of  that  day's  abominations  flared  up  and  died 
down  within  him,  like  the  light  of  a  lamp  in  a  strong 
draught.     And  then  he  had  a  drunkard's  inspiration. 

" There  must  be  no  more  of  this,"  he  thought,  and 
stumbled  once  more  below. 

The  absence  of  Holdorsen's  body  brought  him  to  a 
stand.  He  stood  and  stared  at  the  empty  floor,  and 
then  remembered  and  smiled.  From  the  captain's  room 
he  took  the  open  case  with  one  dozen  and  three  bottles 
of  gin,  put  the  lantern  inside,  and  walked  precariously 
forth.  Mac  was  once  more  conscious ;  his  eyes  haggard, 
his  face  drawn  with  pain  and  flushed  with  fever;  and 
Carthew  remembered  he  had  never  been  seen  to,  had 
lain  there  helpless,  and  was  so  to  lie  all  night,  injured, 

462 


A   HARD   BARGAIN 

perhaps  dying.  But  it  was  now  too  late;  reason  had 
now  fled  from  that  silent  ship.  If  Carthew  could  get  on 
deck  again,  it  was  as  much  as  he  could  hope;  and  cast- 
ing on  the  unfortunate  a  glance  of  pity,  the  tragic  drunk- 
ard shouldered  his  way  up  the  companion,  dropped  the 
case  overboard,  and  fell  in  the  scuppers  helpless. 


463 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A    BAD    BARGAIN 

With  the  first  colour  in  the  east,  Carthew  awoke  and 
sat  up.  Awhile  he  gazed  at  the  scroll  of  the  morning 
bank  and  the  spars  and  hanging  canvas  of  the  brig, 
like  a  man  who  wakes  in  a  strange  bed,  with  a  child's 
simplicity  of  wonder.  He  wondered  above  all  what 
ailed  him,  what  he  had  lost,  what  disfavour  had  been 
done  him,  which  he  knew  he  should  resent,  yet  had 
forgotten.  And  then,  like  a  river  bursting  through  a 
dam,  the  truth  rolled  on  him  its  instantaneous  volume: 
his  memory  teemed  with  speech  and  pictures  that  he 
should  never  again  forget;  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
stood  a  moment  hand  to  brow,  and  began  to  walk 
violently  to  and  fro  by  the  companion.  As  he  walked, 
he  wrung  his  hands.  "God  —  God  —  God,"  he  kept 
saying,  with  no  thought  of  prayer,  uttering  a  mere  voice 
of  agony. 

The  time  may  have  been  long  or  short,  it  was  perhaps 
?rrinutes,  perhaps  only  seconds,  ere  he  awoke  to  find 
himself  observed,  and  saw  the  captain  sitting  up  and 
watching  him  over  the  break  of  the  poop,  a  strange 
blindness  as  of  fever  in  his  eyes,  a  haggard  knot  of 
corrugations  on  his  brow.  Cain  saw  himself  in  a  mirror. 
For  a  flash  they  looked  upon  each  other,  and  then 

464 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

glanced  guiltily  aside ;  and  Carthew  fled  from  the  eye 
of  his  accomplice,  and  stood  leaning  on  the  taffrail. 

An  hour  went  by,  while  the  day  came  brighter,  and 
the  sun  rose  and  drank  up  the  clouds:  an  hour  of  silence 
in  the  ship,  an  hour  of  agony  beyond  narration  for  the 
sufferers.  Brown's  gabbling  prayers,  the  cries  of  the 
sailors  in  the  rigging,  strains  of  the  dead  Hemstead's 
minstrelsy,  ran  together  in  Carthew's  mind,  with  sick- 
ening iteration.  He  neither  acquitted  nor  condemned 
himself:  he  did  not  think,  he  suffered.  In  the  bright 
water  into  which  he  stared,  the  pictures  changed  and 
were  repeated :  the  baresark  rage  of  Goddedaal ;  the 
blood-red  light  of  the  sunset  into  which  they  had  run 
forth ;  the  face  of  the  babbling  Chinaman  as  they  cast 
him  over;  the  face  of  the  captain,  seen  a  moment  since, 
as  he  awoke  from  drunkenness  into  remorse.  And  time 
passed,  and  the  sun  swam  higher,  and  his  torment  was 
not  abated. 

Then  were  fulfilled  many  sayings,  and  the  weakest 
of  these  condemned  brought  relief  and  healing  to  the 
others.  Amalu  the  drudge  awoke  (like  the  rest)  to  sick- 
ness of  body  and  distress  of  mind;  but  the  habit  of 
obedience  ruled  in  that  simple  spirit,  and  appalled  to 
be  so  late,  he  went  direct  into  the  galley,  kindled  the 
fire,  and  began  to  get  breakfast.  At  the  rattle  of  dishes, 
the  snapping  of  the  fire,  and  the  thin  smoke  that  went 
up  straight  into  the  air,  the  spell  was  lifted.  The  con- 
demned felt  once  more  the  good  dry  land  of  habit  under 
foot;  they  touched  again  the  familiar  guide-ropes  of 
sanity ;  they  were  restored  to  a  sense  of  the  blessed 
revolution  and  return  of  all  things  earthly.  The  captain 
drew  a  bucket  of  water  and  began  to  bathe.     Tommy 

465 


THE  WRECKER 

sat  up,  watched  him  awhile,  and  slowly  followed  his 
example;  and  Carthew,  remembering  his  last  thoughts 
of  the  night  before,  hastened  to  the  cabin. 

Mac  was  awake;  perhaps  had  not  slept.  Over  his 
head  Goddedaal's  canary  twittered  shrilly  from  its  cage. 

"  How  are  you  ?  "  asked  Carthew. 

' '  Me  arrum's  broke, "  returned  Mac ;  ' '  but  I  can  stand 
that.  It's  this  place  I  can't  abide.  I  was  coming  on 
deck  anyway." 

"  Stay  where  you  are,  though,"  said  Carthew.  "  It's 
deadly  hot  above,  and  there's  no  wind.  I'll  wash  out 
this  —  "  and  he  paused,  seeking  a  word  and  not  finding 
one  for  the  grisly  foulness  of  the  cabin. 

"  Faith,  I'll  be  obliged  to  ye,  then,"  replied  the  Irish- 
man. He  spoke  mild  and  meek,  like  a  sick  child  with 
its  mother.  There  was  now  no  violence  in  the  violent 
man ;  and  as  Carthew  fetched  a  bucket  and  swab  and 
the  steward's  sponge,  and  began  to  cleanse  the  field  of 
battle,  he  alternately  watched  him  or  shut  his  eyes  and 
sighed  like  a  man  near  fainting.  "I  have  to  ask  all 
your  pardons,"  he  began  again  presently,  "and  the  more 
shame  to  me  as  I  got  ye  into  the  trouble  and  couldn't  do 
nothing  when  it  came.  Ye  saved  me  life,  sir;  ye're  a 
clane  shot." 

"For  God's  sake,  don't  talk  of  it!"  cried  Carthew. 
"  It  can't  be  talked  of;  you  don't  know  what  it  was.  It 
was  nothing  down  here;  they  fought.  On  deck  —  O, 
my  God!"  And  Carthew,  with  the  bloody  sponge 
pressed  to  his  face,  struggled  a  moment  with  hysteria. 

1 '  Kape  cool,  Mr.  Cart'ew.  It's  done  now, "  said  Mac ; 
"and  ye  may  bless  God  ye're  not  in  pain  and  helpless 
in  the  bargain." 

466 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

There  was  no  more  said  by  one  or  other,  and  the 
cabin  was  pretty  well  cleansed  when  a  stroke  on  the 
ship's  bell  summoned  Carthew  to  breakfast.  Tommy 
had  been  busy  in  the  meanwhile;  he  had  hauled  the 
whaleboat  close  aboard,  and  already  lowered  into  it  a 
small  keg  of  beef  that  he  found  ready  broached  beside 
the  galley  door;  it  was  plain  he  had  but  the  one  idea  — 
to  escape. 

"  We  have  a  shipful  of  stores  to  draw  upon,"  he  said. 
"  Well,  what  are  we  staying  for  ?  Let's  get  off  at  once 
for  Hawaii.     I've  begun  preparing  already." 

' '  Mac  has  his  arm  broken, "  observed  Carthew ;  ' '  how 
would  he  stand  the  voyage  ?  " 

"  A  broken  arm  ?  "  repeated  the  captain.  "That  all  ? 
I'll  set  it  after  breakfast.  I  thought  he  was  dead  like 
the  rest.  That  madman  hit  out  like  —  "  and  there,  at 
the  evocation  of  the  battle,  his  voice  ceased  and  the 
talk  died  with  it. 

After  breakfast,  the  three  white  men  went  down  into 
the  cabin. 

"I've  come  to  set  your  arm,"  said  the  captain. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Captain,"  replied  Mac;  "but 
the  firrst  thing  ye  got  to  do  is  to  get  this  ship  to  sea. 
We'll  talk  of  me  arrum  after  that." 

"  O,  there's  no  such  blooming  hurry,"  returned 
Wicks. 

"When  the  next  ship  sails  in,  ye'll  tell  me  stories!" 
retorted  Mac. 

"  But  there's  nothing  so  unlikely  in  the  world,"  ob- 
jected Carthew. 

"Don't  be  deceivin'  yourself,"  said  Mac.  "If  ye 
want  a  ship,  divil  a  one'll  look  near  ye  in  six  year;  but 

467 


THE   WRECKER 

if  ye  don't,  ye  may  take  my  word  for  ut,  we'll  have  a 
squadron  layin'  here." 

" That's  what  I  say,"  cried  Tommy;  "that's  what  I 
call  sense!     Let's  stock  that  whaleboat  and  be  off." 

"And  what  will  Captain  Wicks  be  thinking  of  the 
whaleboat?"  asked  the  Irishman. 

"  I  don't  think  of  it  at  all,"  said  Wicks.  "We've  a 
smart-looking  brig  under  foot;  that's  all  the  whaleboat 
I  want." 

"Excuse  me!"  cried  Tommy.  "That's  childish 
talk.  You've  got  a  brig,  to  be  sure,  and  what  use,  is 
she  ?  You  daren't  go  anywhere  in  her.  What  port  are 
you  to  sail  for  ?  " 

"For  the  port  of  Davy  Jones's  Locker,  my  son,'  re- 
plied the  captain.  "This  brig's  going  to  be  lost  at  sea. 
I'll  tell  you  where,  too,  and  that's  about  forty  miles  to 
windward  of  Kauai.  We're  going  to  stay  by  her  till 
she's  down ;  and  once  the  masts  are  under,  she's  the 
Flying  Scud  no  more,  and  we  never  heard  of  such  a 
brig;  and  it's  the  crew  of  the  schooner  Currency  Lass 
that  comes  ashore  in  the  boat,  and  takes  the  first  chance 
to  Sydney." 

"Captain  dear,  that's  the  first  Christian  word  I've 
heard  of  ut!  "  cried  Mac.  "And  now,  just  let  me  arrum 
be,  jewel,  and  get  the  brig  outside." 

"  I'm  as  anxious  as  yourself,  Mac,"  returned  Wicks; 
"but  there's  not  wind  enough  to  swear  by.  So  let's 
see  your  arm,  and  no  more  talk." 

The  arm  was  set  and  splinted;  the  body  of  Brown 
fetched  from  the  forepeak,  where  it  lay  stiff  and  cold, 
and  committed  to  the  waters  of  the  lagoon;  and  the 
washing  of  the  cabin  rudely  finished.     All  these  were 

468 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

done  ere  midday;  and  it  was  past  three  when  the  first 
cat's-paw  ruffled  the  lagoon,  and  the  wind  came  in  a 
dry  squall,  which  presently  sobered  to  a  steady  breeze. 

The  interval  was  passed  by  all  in  feverish  impatience, 
and  by  one  of  the  party  in  secret  and  extreme  concern 
of  mind.  Captain  Wicks  was  a  fore-and-aft  sailor;  he 
could  take  a  schooner  through  a  Scotch  reel,  felt  her 
mouth  and  divined  her  temper  like  a  rider  with  a  horse; 
she,  on  her  side,  recognising  her  master  and  following 
his  wishes  like  a  dog.  But  by  a  not  very  unusual  train 
of  circumstance,  the  man's  dexterity  was  partial  and 
circumscribed.  On  a  schooner's  deck  he  was  Rem- 
brandt or  (at  the  least)  Mr.  Whistler;  on  board  a  brig 
he  was  Pierre  Grassou.  Again  and  again  in  the  course 
of  the  morning,  he  had  reasoned  out  his  policy  and  re- 
hearsed his  orders ;  and  ever  with  the  same  depression 
and  weariness.  It  was  guess-work ;  it  was  chance ;  the 
ship  might  behave  as  he  expected,  and  might  not;  sup- 
pose she  failed  him,  he  stood  there  helpless,  beggared 
of  all  the  proved  resources  of  experience.  Had  not  all 
hands  been  so  weary,  had  he  not  feared  to  communicate 
his  own  misgivings,  he  could  have  towed  her  out.  But 
these  reasons  sufficed,  and  the  most  he  could  do  was 
to  take  all  possible  precautions.  Accordingly  he  had 
Carthew  aft,  explained  what  was  to  be  done  with  anx- 
ious patience,  and  visited  along  with  him  the  various 
sheets  and  braces. 

"J  hope  I'll  remember,"  said  Carthew.  "It  seems 
awfully  muddled." 

"It's  the  rottenest  kind  of  rig,"  the  captain  admitted: 
"all  blooming  pocket  handkerchiefs!  And  not  one 
sailor-man  on  deck !     Ah,  if  she'd  only  been  a  brigan- 

469      • 


THE  WRECKER 

tine,  now !  But  it's  lucky  the  passage  is  so  plain ;  there's 
no  manoeuvring  to  mention.  We  get  under  way  before 
the  wind,  and  run  right  so  till  we  begin  to  get  foul  of 
the  island ;  then  we  haul  our  wind  and  lie  as  near  south- 
east as  may  be  till  we're  on  that  line ;  'bout  ship  there 
and  stand  straight  out  on  the  port  tack.  Catch  the 
idea  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  see  the  idea,"  replied  Carthew  rather  dis- 
mally, and  the  two  incompetents  studied  for  a  long  time 
in  silence  the  complicated  gear  above  their  heads. 

But  the  time  came  when  these  rehearsals  must  be  put 
in  practice.  The  sails  were  lowered,  and  all  hands 
heaved  the  anchor  short.  The  whaleboat  was  then 
cut  adrift,  the  upper  topsails  and  the  spanker  set,  the 
yards  braced  up,  and  the  spanker  sheet  hauled  out  to 
starboard. 

"  Heave  away  on  your  anchor,  Mr.  Carthew." 

"Anchor's  gone,  sir." 

"Set  jibs." 

It  was  done,  and  the  brig  still  hung  enchanted. 
Wicks,  his  head  full  of  a  schooner's  mainsail,  turned  his 
mind  to  the  spanker.  First  he  hauled  in  the  sheet,  and 
then  he  hauled  it  out,  with  no  result. 

"  Brail  the  damned  thing  up ! "  he  bawled  at  last,  with 
a  red  face.     "There  ain't  no  sense  in  it." 

It  was  the  last  stroke  of  bewilderment  for  the  poor 
captain,  that  he  had  no  sooner  brailed  up  the  spanker, 
than  the  brig  came  before  the  wind.  The  laws  of  na- 
ture seemed  to  him  to  be  suspended;  he  was  like  a 
man  in  a  world  of  pantomime  tricks;  the  cause  of  any 
result,  and  the  probable  result  of  any  action,  equally 
concealed  from  him.     He  was  the  more  careful  not  to* 

470 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

shake  the  nerve  of  his  amateur  assistants.  He  stood 
there  with  a  face  like  a  torch ;  but  he  gave  his  orders 
with  aplomb ;  and  indeed,  now  the  ship  was  under  way, 
supposed  his  difficulties  over. 

The  lower  topsails  and  courses  were  then  set,  and  the 
brig  began  to  walk  the  water  like  a  thing  of  life,  her 
forefoot  discoursing  music,  the  birds  flying  and  crying 
over  her  spars.  Bit  by  bit  the  passage  began  to  open 
and  the  blue  sea  to  show  between  the  flanking  breakers 
on  the  reef;  bit  by  bit,  on  the  starboard  bow,  the  low 
land  of  the  islet  began  to  heave  closer  aboard.  The 
yards  were  braced  up,  the  spanker  sheet  hauled  aft  again ; 
the  brig  was  close  hauled,  lay  down  to  her  work  like 
a  thing  in  earnest,  and  had  soon  drawn  near  to  the  point 
of  advantage,  where  she  might  stay  and  lie  out  of  the 
lagoon  in  a  single  tack. 

Wicks  took  the  wheel  himself,  swelling  with  success. 
He  kept  the  brig  full  to  give  her  heels,  and  began  to 
bark  his  orders:  "  Ready  about.  Helm's  a-lee.  Tacks 
and  sheets.  Mainsail  haul. "  And  then  the  fatal  words : 
"That'll  do  your  mainsail;  jump  forrard  and  haul  round 
your  foreyards." 

To  stay  a  square-rigged  ship  is  an  affair  of  knowledge 
and  swift  sight;  and  a  man  used  to  the  succinct  evolu- 
tions of  a  schooner  will  always  tend  to  be  too  hasty 
with  a  brig.  It  was  so  now.  The  order  came  too  soon ; 
the  topsails  set  flat  aback;  the  ship  was  in  irons.  Even 
yet,  had  the  helm  been  reversed,  they  might  have  saved 
her.  But  to  think  of  a  stern-board  at  all,  far  more  to 
think  of  profiting  by  one,  were  foreign  to  the  schooner- 
sailor's  mind.  Wicks  made  haste  instead  to  wear  ship, 
a  manoeuvre  for  which  room  was  wanting  and  the  Fly- 

47 1 


THE   WRECKER 

ing  Scud  took  ground  on  a  bank  of  sand  and  coral  about 
twenty  minutes  before  five. 

Wicks  was  no  hand  with  a  square-rigger,  and  he  had 
shown  it.  But  he  was  a  sailor  and  a  born  captain  of  men 
for  all  homely  purposes,  where  intellect  is  not  required 
and  an  eye  in  a  man's  head  and  a  heart  under  his  jacket 
will  suffice.  Before  the  others  had  time  to  understand 
the  misfortune,  he  was  bawling  fresh  orders,  and  had  the 
sails  clewed  up,  and  took  soundings  round  the  ship. 

"She  lies  lovely,"  he  remarked,  and  ordered  out  a 
boat  with  the  starboard  anchor. 

"Here!  steady!"  cried  Tommy.  "You  ain't  going 
to  turn  us  to,  to  warp  her  off?  " 

"I  am  though,"  replied  Wicks. 

"1  won't  set  a  hand  to  such  tomfoolery  for  one," 
replied  Tommy.  "I'm  dead  beat."  He  went  and  sat 
down  doggedly  on  the  main  hatch.  "  You  got  us  on; 
get  us  off  again,"  he  added. 

Carthew  and  Wicks  turned  to  each  other. 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  know  how  tired  we  are,"  said 
Carthew. 

"The  tide's  flowing!"  cried  the  captain.  "You 
wouldn't  have  me  miss  a  rising  tide  ? " 

"O  gammon!  there's  tides  to-morrow!"  retorted 
Tommy. 

"And  I'll  tell  you  what,"  added  Carthew,  "the 
breeze  is  failing  fast,  and  the  sun  will' soon  be  down. 
We  may  get  into  all  kinds  of  fresh  mess  in  the  dark  and 
with  nothing  but  light  airs." 

"  I  don't  deny  it,"  answered  Wicks,  and  stood  awhile 
as  if  in  thought.  "But  what  I  can't  make  out,"  he 
began  again,  with  agitation,  "what  I  can't  make  out  is 

472 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

what  you're  made  of !  To  stay  in  this  place  is  beyond 
me.  There's  the  bloody  sun  going  down  —  and  to  stay 
here  is  beyond  me!  " 

The  others  looked  upon  him  with  horrified  surprise. 
This  fall  of  their  chief  pillar  —  this  irrational  passion  in 
the  practical  man,  suddenly  barred  out  of  his  true  sphere, 
the  sphere  of  action  —  shocked  and  daunted  them.  But 
it  gave  to  another  and  unseen  hearei  the  chance  for 
which  he  had  been  waiting.  Mac,  on  the  striking  of 
the  brig,  had  craw*ed  up  the  companion,  and  he  now 
showed  himself  arfd  spoke  up. 

"Captain  Wicks,"  he  said,  "it's  me  that  brought 
this  trouble  on  the  lot  of  ye.  I'm  sorry  for  ut,  I  ask  all 
your  pardons,  and  if  there's  any  one  can  say  '  I  forgive 
ye,'  it'll  make  my  soul  the  lighter." 

Wicks  stared  upon  the  man  in  amaze;  then  his  self- 
control  returned  to  him.  "We're  all  in  glass  houses 
here,"  he  said;  "we  ain't  going  to  turn  to  and  throw 
stones.  I  forgive  you,  sure  enough;  and  much  good 
may  it  do  you!  " 

The  others  spoke  to  the  same  purpose. 

"I  thank  ye  for  ut,  and  'tis  done  like  gentlemen," 
said  Mac.  "  But  there's  another  thing  I  have  upon  my 
mind.     I  hope  we're  all  Prodestan's  here  ?  " 

It  appeared  they  were;  it  seemed  a  small  thing  for 
the  Protestant  religion  to  rejoice  in ! 

"Well,  that's  as  it  should  be,"  continued  Mac. 
"And  why  shouldn't  we  say  the  Lord's  Prayer? 
There  can't  be  no  hurt  in  ut." 

He  had  the  same  quiet,  pleading,  childlike  way  with 
him  as  in  the  morning;  and  the  others  accepted  his 
proposal,  and  knelt  down  without  a  word. 

4~3 


THE  WRECKER 

"Knale  if  ye  like!"  said  he.  "I  stand."  And  he 
covered  his  eyes. 

So  the  prayer  was  said  to  the  accompaniment  of  the 
surf  and  seabirds,  and  all  rose  refreshed  and  felt  light- 
ened of  a  load.  Up  to  then,  they  had  cherished  their 
guilty  memories  in  private,  or  only  referred  to  them  in 
the  heat  of  a  moment  and  fallen  immediately  silent. 
Now  they  had  faced  their  remorse  in  company,  and  the 
worst  seemed  over.  Nor  was  it  only  that.  But  the 
petition  "  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,"  falling  in  so  ap- 
posite after  they  had  themselves  forgiven  the  immediate 
author  of  their  miseries,  sounded  like  an  absolution. 

Tea  was  taken  on  deck  in  the  time  of  the  sunset,  and 
not  long  after  the  five  castaways  —  castaways  once 
more  — ■  lay  down  to  sleep. 

Day  dawned  windless  and  hot.  Their  slumbers  had 
been  too  profound  to  be  refreshing,  and  they  woke  list- 
less, and  sat  up,  and  stared  about  them  with  dull  eyes. 
Only  Wicks,  smelling  a  hard  day's  work  ahead,  was 
more  alert.  He  went  first  to  the  well,  sounded  it  once 
and  then  a  second  time,  and  stood  awhile  with  a  grim 
look,  so  that  all  could  see  he  was  dissatisfied.  Then  he 
shook  himself,  stripped  to  the  buff,  clambered  on  the 
rail,  drew  himself  up  and  raised  his  arms  to  plunge. 
The  dive  was  never  taken.  He  stood  instead  transfixed, 
his  eyes  on  the  horizon. 

"  Hand  up  that  glass,"  he  said. 

In  a  trice  they  were  all  swarming  aloft,  the  nude  cap- 
tain leading  with  the  glass. 

On  the  northern  horizon  was  a  finger  of  grey  smoke, 
straight  in  the  windless  air  like  a  point  of  admiration. 

'"  What  do  you  make  it  ?  "  they  asked  of  Wicks. 
474 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

"She's  truck  down,"  he  replied;  "no  telling  yet 
By  the  way  the  smoke  builds,  she  must  be  heading 
right  here." 

"What  can  she  be?" 

"She  might  be  the  China  mail,"  returned  Wicks, 
"and  she  might  be  a  blooming  man-of-war,  come  to 
look  for  castaways.  Here!  This  ain't  the  time  to  stand 
staring.     On  deck,  boys ! " 

He  was  the  first  on  deck,  as  he  had  been  the  first  aloft, 
handed  down  the  ensign,  bent  it  again  to  the  signal  hal- 
liards, and  ran  it  up  union  down. 

"Now  hear  me,"  he  said,  jumping  into  his  trousers, 
' '  and  everything  I  say  you  grip  on  to.  If  that's  a  man- 
of-war,  she'll  be  in  a  tearing  hurry ;  all  these  ships  are 
what  don't  do  nothing  and  have  their  expenses  paid. 
That's  our  chance;  for  we'll  go  with  them,  and  they 
won't  take  the  time  to  look  twice  or  to  ask  a  question. 
I'm  Captain  Trent;  Carthew, you're Goddedaal;  Tommy, 
you're  Hardy;  Mac's  Brown;  Amalu —  Hold  hard! 
we  can't  make  a  Chinaman  of  him!  Ah  Wing  must 
have  deserted;  Amalu  stowed  away;  and  I  turned  him 
to  as  cook,  and  was  never  at  the  bother  to  sign  him. 
Catch  the  idea  ?    Say  your  names." 

And  that  pale  company  recited  their  lesson  earnestly. 

"  What  were  the  names  of  the  other  two  ?"  he  asked. 
"Him  Carthew  shot  in  the  companion,  and  the  one  I 
caught  in  the  jaw  on  the  main  top-gallant  ?  " 

"  Holdorsen  and  Wallen,"  said  some  one. 

"  Well,  they're  drowned,"  continued  Wicks ; 
"  drowned  alongside  trying  to  lower  a  boat.  We  had 
a  bit  of  a  squall  last  night:  that's  how  we  got  ashore." 
He  ran  and  squinted  at  the  compass.     "Squall  out  of 

475 


THE   WRECKER 

nor'-nor'-west-half-west ;  blew  hard;  every  one  in  a 
mess,  falls  jammed,  and  Holdorsen  and  Wallen  spilt 
overboard.  See?  Clear  your  blooming  heads! "  He 
was  in  his  jacket  now,  and  spoke  with  a  feverish  impa- 
tience and  contention  that  rang  like  anger. 

"  But  is  it  safe  ?"  asked  Tommy. 

"Safe  ?  "  bellowed  the  captain.  "We're  standing  on 
the  drop,  you  moon-calf !  If  that  ship's  bound  for  China 
(which  she  don't  look  to  be),  we're  lost  as  soon  as  we 
arrive;  if  she's  bound  the  other  way,  she  comes  from 
China,  don't  she  ?  Well,  if  there's  a  man  on  board  of 
her  that  ever  clapped  eyes  on  Trent  or  any  blooming 
hand  out  of  this  brig,  we'll  all  be  in  irons  in  two  hours. 
Safe !  no,  it  ain't  safe ;  it's  a  beggarly  last  chance  to  shave 
the  gallows,  and-  that's  what  it  is." 

At  this  convincing  picture,  fear  took  hold  on  all. 

"  Hadn't  we  a  hundred  times  better  stay  by  the  brig?" 
cried  Carthew.  "They  would  give  us  a  hand  to  float 
her  off." 

"You'll  make  me  waste  this  holy  day  in  chattering!  " 
cried  Wicks.  "Look  here,  when  I  sounded  the  well 
this  morning,  there  was  two  foot  of  water  there  against 
eight  inches  last  night.  What's  wrong  ?  I  don't  know ; 
might  be  nothing;  might  be  the  worst  kind  of  smash. 
And  then,  there  we  are  in  for  a  thousand  miles  in  an 
open  boat,  if  that's  your  taste!  " 

"  But  it  may  be  nothing,  and  anyway  their  carpen- 
ters are  bound  to  help  us  repair  her,"  argued  Carthew. 

"  Moses  Murphy!  "  cried  the  captain.  "  How  did  she 
strike  ?  Bows  on,  I  believe.  And  she's  down  by  the 
head  now.  If  any  carpenter  comes  tinkering  here, 
where'll  he  go  first  ?    Down  in  the  forepeak,  I  suppose! 

476 


A    BAD    BARGAIN 

And  then,  how  about  all  that  blood  among  the  chan- 
dlery ?  You  would  think  you  were  a  lot  of  members  of 
Parliament  discussing  Plimsoll;  and  you're  just  a  pack 
of  murderers  with  the  halter  round  your  neck.  Any 
other  ass  got  any  time  to  waste  ?  No  ?  Thank  God  for 
that  J  Now,  all  hands !  I'm  going  below,  and  I  leave  you 
here  on  deck.  You  get  the  boat  cover  off  that  boat; 
then  you  turn  to  and  open  the  specie  chest.  There  are 
five  of  us;  get  five  chests,  and  divide  the  specie  equal 
among  the  five  —  put  it  at  the  bottom  —  and  go  at  it 
like  tigers.  Get  blankets,  or  canvas,  or  clothes,  so  it 
won't  rattle.  It'll  make  five  pretty  heavy  chests,  but 
we  can't  help  that.  You,  Carthew  —  dash  me!  —  You 
Mr.  Goddedaal,  come  below.  We've  our  share  before 
us." 

And  he  cast  another  glance  at  the  smoke,  and  hurried 
below  with  Carthew  at  his  heels. 

The  logs  were  found  in  the  main  cabin  behind  the 
canary's  cage;  two  of  them,  one  kept  by  Trent,  one  by 
Goddedaal.  Wicks  looked  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other, 
and  his  lips  stuck  out. 

"Can  you  forge  hand  of  write  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  said  Carthew. 

"There's  luck  for  you  —  no  more  can  I!"  cried  the 
captain.  "  Hullo!  here's  worse  yet,  here's  this  Godde- 
daal up  to  date;  he  must  have  filled  it  in  before  supper. 
See  for  yourself:  'Smoke  observed. —  Captain  Kirkup 
and  five  hands  of  the  schooner  Currency  Lass. '  Ah ! 
this  is  better,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  other  log. 
"The  old  man  ain't  written  anything  for  a  clear  fort- 
night. We'll  dispose  of  your  log  altogether,  Mr.  God- 
dedaal, and  stick  to  the  old  man's  —  to  mine,  I  mean; 

477 


THE  WRECKER 

only  I  ain't  going  to  write  it  up,  for  reasons  of  my  own. 
You  are.  You're  going  to  sit  down  right  here  and  fill 
it  in  the  way  I  tell  you." 

"  How  to  explain  the  loss  of  mine  ?  "  asked  Carthew. 

"  You  never  kept  one,"  replied  the  captain.  "  Gross 
/neglect  of  duty.     You'll  catch  it." 

"And  the  change  of  writing?"  resumed  Carthew. 
"  You  began ;  why  do  you  stop  and  why  do  I  come  in  ? 
And  you'll  have  to  sign  anyway." 

"O!  I've  met  with  an  accident  and  can't  write,"  re- 
plied Wicks. 

"  An  accident  ?  "  repeated  Carthew.  "  It  don't  sound 
natural.     What  kind  of  an  accident  ?  " 

Wicks  spread  his  hand  face-up  on  the  table,  and 
drove  a  knife  through  his  palm. 

"That  kind  of  an  accident,"  said  he.  "There's  a 
way  to  draw  to  windward  of  most  difficulties,  if  you've 
a  head  on  your  shoulders."  He  began  to  bind  up  his 
hand  with  a  handkerchief,  glancing  the  while  over  God- 
dedaal's  log.  "Hullo!"  he  said,  "this'll  never  do  for 
us  —  this  is  an  impossible  kind  of  a  yarn.  Here,  to  be- 
gin with,  is  this  Captain  Trent  trying  some  fancy  course, 
leastways  he's  a  thousand  miles  to  south'ard  of  the 
great  circle.  And  here,  it  seems,  he  was  close  up  with 
this  island  on  the  sixth,  sails  all  these  days,  and  is  close 
up  with  it  again  by  daylight  on  the  eleventh." 

"Goddedaal  said  they  had  the  deuce's  luck,"  said 
Carthew. 

"Well,  it  don't  look  like  real  life  —  that's  all  I  can 
say,"  returned  Wicks. 

"  It's  the  way  it  was,  though,"  argued  Carthew. 

"So  it  is;  and  what  the  better  are  we  for  that,  if  it 
478 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

don't  look  so  ?  "  cried  the  captain,  sounding  unwonted 
depths  of  art  criticism.  ' '  Here !  try  and  see  if  you  can't 
tie  this  bandage;  I'm  bleeding  like  a  pig." 

As  Carthew  sought  to  adjust  the  handkerchief,  his 
patient  seemed  sunk  in  a  deep  muse,  his  eye  veiled,  his 
mouth  partly  open.  The  job  was  yet  scarce  done,  when 
he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"I  have  it,"  he  broke  out,  and  ran  on  deck.  "Here, 
boys !  "  he  cried,  "we  didn't  come  here  on  the  eleventh ; 
we  came  in  here  on  the  evening  of  the  sixth,  and  lay 
here  ever  since  becalmed.  As  soon  as  you're  done  with 
these  chests,"  he  added,  "you  can  turn  to  and  roll  out 
beef  and  water  breakers;  it'll  look  more  shipshape  — 
like  as  if  we  were  getting  ready  for  the  boat  voyage." 

And  he  was  back  again  in  a  moment,  cooking  the 
new  log.  Goddedaal's  was  then  carefully  destroyed, 
and  a  hunt  began  for  the  ship's  papers.  Of  all  the 
agonies  of  that  breathless  morning,  this  was  perhaps  the 
most  poignant.  Here  and  there  the  two  men  searched, 
cursing,  cannoning  together,  streaming  with  heat,  freez- 
ing with  terror.  News  was  bawled  down  to  them  that 
the  ship  was  indeed  a  man-of-war,  that  she  was  close 
up,  that  she  was  lowering  a  boat;  and  still  they  sought 
in  vain.  By  what  accident  they  missed  the  iron  box 
with  the  money  and  accounts,  is  hard  to  fancy ;  but  they 
did.  And  the  vital  documents  were  found  at  last  in  the 
pocket  of  Trent's  shore-going  coat,  where  he  had  left 
them  when  last  he  came  on  board. 

Wicks  smiled  for  the  first  time  that  morning.  "  None 
too  soon,"  said  he.  "And  now  for  it!  Take  these 
others  for  me;  I'm  afraid  I'll  get  them  mixed  if  I  keep 
both." 

479 


THE   WRECKER 

"  What  are  they  ?"  Carthew  asked. 

"They're  the  Kirkup  and  Currency  Lass  papers,"  he 
replied.     "  Pray  God  we  need  'em  again!  " 

"Boat's  inside  the  lagoon,  sir,"  hailed  down  Mac, 
who  sat  by  the  skylight  doing  sentry  while  the  others 
worked. 

"Time  we  were  on  deck,  then,  Mr.  Goddedaal,"  said 
Wicks. 

As  they  turned  to  leave  the  cabin,  the  canary  burst 
into  piercing  song. 

"  My  God!  "  cried  Carthew,  with  a  gulp,  "  we  can't 
leave  that  wretched  bird  to  starve.  It  was  poor  Godde- 
daal's." 

"  Bring  the  bally  thing  along!  "  cried  the  captain. 

And  they  went  on  deck. 

An  ugly  brute  of  a  modern  man-of-war  lay  just  with- 
out the  reef,  now  quite  inert,  now  giving  a  flap  or  two 
with  her  propeller.  Nearer  hand,  and  just  within,  a  big 
white  boat  came  skimming  to  the  stroke  of  many  oars, 
her  ensign  blowing  at  the  stern. 

"One  word  more,"  said  Wicks,  after  he  had  taken 
in  the  scene.  "  Mac,  you've  been  in  China  ports  ?  All 
right;  then  you  can  speak  for  yourself.  The  rest  of 
you  I  kept  on  board  all  the  time  we  were  in  Hong- 
kong, hoping  you  would  desert;  but  you  fooled  me 
and  stuck  to  the  brig.  That'll  make  your  lying  come 
easier." 

The  boat  was  now  close  at  hand;  a  boy  in  the  stern 
sheets  was  the  only  officer,  and  a  poor  one  plainly,  for 
tne  men  were  talking  as  they  pulled. 

"Thank  God,  they've  only  sent  a  kind  of  a  middy!  " 
ejaculated  Wicks.     "  Here  you,  Hardy,  stand  for'ard! 

480 


A    BAD    BARGAIN 

I'll  have  no  deck  hands  on  my  quarter-deck,"  he  cried, 
and  the  reproof  braced  the  whole  crew  like  a  cold 
douche. 

The  boat  came  alongside  with  perfect  neatness,  and 
the  boy  officer  stepped  on  board,  where  he  was  respect- 
fully greeted  by  Wicks. 

"  You  the  master  of  this  ship  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Wicks.  "Trent  is  my  name,  and 
this  is  the  Flying  Scud  of  Hull." 

"  You  seem  to  have  got  into  a  mess,"  said  the  officer. 

"If  you'll  step  aft  with  me  here,  I'll  tell  you  all  there 
is  of  it,"  said  Wicks. 

"Why,  man,  you're  shaking!  "  cried  the  officer. 

"So  would  you,  perhaps,  if  you  had  been  in  the  same 
berth,"  returned  Wicks;  and  he  told  the  whole  story  of 
the  rotten  water,  the  long  calm,  the  squall,  the  seamen 
drowned;  glibly  and  hotly;  talking,  with  his  head  in 
the  lion's  mouth,  like  one  pleading  in  the  dock.  I  heard 
the  same  tale  from  the  same  narrator  in  the  saloon  in 
San  Francisco;  and  even  then  his  bearing  filled  me  with 
suspicion.     But  the  officer  was  no  observer. 

"Well,  the  captain  is  in  no  end  of  a  hurry,"  said  he; 
"but  I  was  instructed  to  give  you  all  the  assistance 
in  my  power,  and  signal  back  for  another  boat  if 
more  hands  were  necessary.  What  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

"O,  we  won't  keep  you  no  time,"  replied  Wicks, 
cheerily.  "We're  all  ready,  bless  you —  men's  chests, 
chronometer,  papers  and  all." 

"Do  you  mean  to  leave  her?"  cried  the  officer.  "She 
seems  to  me  to  lie  nicely;  can't  we  get  your  ship  off?" 

"So  we  could,  and  no  mistake;  but  how  we're  to 
481 


fHE   WRECKER 

keep  her  afloat's  another  question.  Her  bows  is  stove 
in,"  replied  Wicks. 

The  officer  coloured  to  the  eyes.  He  was  incompe- 
tent and  knew  he  was;  thought  he  was  already  de- 
tected, and  feared  to  expose  himself  again.  There  was 
nothing  further  from  his  mind  than  that  the  captain 
should  deceive  him ;  if  the  captain  was  pleased,  why, 
so  was  he.  "  All  right,"  he  said.  "  Tell  your  men  to 
get  their  chests  aboard." 

"  Mr.  Goddedaal,  turn  the  hands  to  to  get  the  chests 
aboard,"  said  Wicks. 

The  four  Currency  Lasses  had  waited  the  while  on 
tenter-hooks.  This  welcome  news  broke  upon  them 
like  the  sun  at  midnight ;  and  Hadden  burst  into  a  storm 
of  tears,  sobbing  aloud  as  he  heaved  upon  the  tackle. 
But  the  work  went  none  the  less  briskly  forward; 
chests,  men,  and  bundles  were  got  over  the  side  with 
alacrity;  the  boat  was  shoved  off;  it  moved  out  of  the 
long  shadow  of  the  Flying  Scud,  and  its  bows  were 
pointed  at  the  passage. 

So  much,  then,  was  accomplished.  The  sham  wreck 
had  passed  muster;  they  were  clear  of  her,  they  were 
safe  away;  and  the  water  widened  between  them  and 
her  damning  evidences.  On  the  other  hand,  they  were 
drawing  nearer  to  the  ship  of  war,  which  might  very 
well  prove  to  be  their  prison  and  a  hangman's  cart  to 
bear  them  to  the  gallows — of  which  they  had  not  yet 
learned  either  whence  she  came  or  whither  she  was 
bound;  and  the  doubt  weighed  upon  their  heart  like 
mountains. 

It  was  Wicks  who  did  the  talking.  The  sound  was 
small  in  Carthew's  ears,  like  the  voices  of  men  miles 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

away,  but  the  meaning  of  each  word  struck  home  to  him 
like  a  bullet.  "What  did  you  say  your  ship  was?" 
inquired  Wicks. 

"Tempest,  don't  you  know?"  returned  the  officer. 

Don't  you  know?  What  could  that  mean?  Per- 
haps nothing:  perhaps  that  the  ships  had  met  already.. 
Wicks  took  his  courage  in  both  hands.  "  Where  is  she 
bound  ?  "  he  asked. 

"O,  we're  just  looking  in  at  all  these  miserable  isl- 
ands here,"  said  the  officer.  "Then  we  bear  up  for 
San  Francisco." 

"  O,  yes,  you're  from  China  ways,  like  us  ?"  pursued 
Wicks. 

' '  Hong  Kong, "  said  the  officer,  and  spat  over  the  side. 

Hong  Kong.  Then  the  game  was  up ;  as  soon  as  they 
set  foot  on  board,  they  would  be  seized;  the  wreck 
would  be  examined,  the  blood  found,  the  lagoon  perhaps 
dredged,  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead  would  reappear  to 
testify.  An  impulse  almost  incontrollable  bade  Carthew 
rise  from  the  thwart,  shriek  out  aloud,  and  leap  over- 
board; it  seemed  so  vain  a  thing  to  dissemble  longer, 
to  dally  with  the  inevitable,  to  spin  out  some  hundred 
seconds  more  of  agonised  suspense,  with  shame  and 
death  thus  visibly  approaching.  But  the  indomitable 
Wicks  persevered.  His  face  was  like  a  skull,  his  voice 
scarce  recognisable;  the  dullest  of  men  and  officers  (it 
seemed)  must  have  remarked  that  tell-tale  countenance 
and  broken  utterance.  And  still  he  persevered,  bent 
upon  certitude. 

"Nice  place,  Hong  Kong?"  he  said. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the  officer.  "  Only  a 
day  and  a  half  there;  called  for  orders  and  came  straight 

483 


THE   WRECKER 

on  here.  Never  heard  of  such  a  beastly  cruise."  And 
he  went  on  describing  and  lamenting  the  untoward 
fortunes  of  the  Tempest. 

But  Wicks  and  Carthew  heeded  him  no  longer.  They 
lay  back  on  the  gunnel,  breathing  deep,  sunk  in  a  stupor 
of  the  body :  the  mind  within  still  nimbly  and  agreeably 
at  work,  measuring  the  past  danger,  exulting  in  the  pres- 
ent relief,  numbering  with  ecstasy  their  ultimate  chances 
of  escape.  For  the  voyage  in  the  man-of-war  they  were 
now  safe;  yet  a  few  more  days  of  peril,  activity,  and 
presence  of  mind  in  San  Francisco,  and  the  whole  horrid 
tale  was  blotted  out;  and  Wicks  again  became  Kirkup, 
and  Goddedaal  became  Carthew —  men  beyond  all  shot  of 
possible  suspicion,  men  who  had  never  heard  of  the  Fly- 
ing Scud,  who  had  never  been  in  sight  of  Midway  Reef. 

So  they  came  alongside,  under  many  craning  heads  of 
seamen  and  projecting  mouths  of  guns ;  so  they  climbed 
on  board  somnambulous,  and  looked  blindly  about  them 
at  the  tall  spars,  the  white  decks,  and  the  crowding 
ship's  company,  and  heard  men  as  from  far  away,  and 
answered  them  at  random. 

And  then  a  hand  fell  softly  on  Carthew's  shoulder. 

"  Why,  Norrie,  old  chappie,  where  have  you  dropped 
from  ?  All  the  world's  been  looking  for  you.  Don't 
you  know  you've  come  into  your  kingdom  ?  " 

He  turned,  beheld  the  face  of  his  old  schoolmate  Se- 
bright, and  fell  unconscious  at  his  feet. 

The  doctor  was  attending  him,  awhile  later,  in  Lieu- 
tenant Sebright's  cabin,  when  he  came  to  himself.  He 
opened  his  eyes,  looked  hard  in  the  strange  face,  and 
spoke  with  a  kind  of  solemn  vigour. 

"  Brown  must  go  the  same  road,"  he  said;  "  now  or 
484 


A    HAD    BARGAIN 

never. "  And  then  paused,  and  his  reason  coining  to  him 
with  more  clearness,  spoke  again :  "What  was  I  saying  ? 
Where  am  I  ?     Who  are  you  ?  " 

"I  am  the  doctor  of  the  Tempest, ' '  was  the  reply. 
"  You  are  in  Lieutenant  Sebright's  berth,  and  you  may 
dismiss  all  concern  from  your  mind.  Your  troubles  are 
over.  Mr.  Carthew." 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  that  ?"  he  asked.  "  Ah,  I  re- 
member—  Sebright  knew  me!  O!"  and  he  groaned 
and  shook.  "Send  down  Wicks  to  me;  I  must  see 
Wicks  at  once!  "  he  cried,  and  seized  the  doctors  wrist 
with  unconscious  violence. 

■ '  All  right, "  said  the  doctor.  ' '  Let's  make  a  bargain. 
You  swallow  down  this  draught,  and  I'll  go  and  fetch 
Wicks/' 

And  he  gave  the  wretched  man  an  opiate  that  laid 
him  out  within  ten  minutes  and  in  all  likelihood  pre- 
served his  reason. 

It  was  the  doctor's  next  business  to  attend  to  Mac; 
and  he  found  occasion,  while  engaged  upon  his  arm,  to 
make  the  man  repeat  the  names  of  the  rescued  crew. 
It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  captain,  and  there  is  no  doubt 
he  was  no  longer  the  man  that  we  have  seen ;  sudden 
relief,  the  sense  of  perfect  safety,  a  square  meal  and  a 
good  glass  of  grog,  had  all  combined  to  relax  his  vigi- 
lance and  depress  his  energy 

' '  When  was  this  done  ?  "  asked  the  doctor,  looking 
at  the  wound. 

"More  than  a  week  ago,"  replied  Wicks,  thinking 
singly  of  his  log. 

"  Hey  ?"  cried  the  doctor,  and  he  raised  his  head  and 
looked  the  captain  in  the  eyes. 


THE  WRECKER 

"  I  don't  remember  exactly,"  faltered  Wicks. 

And  at  this  remarkable  falsehood,  the  suspicions  01 
the  doctor  were  at  once  quadrupled. 

"By  the  way,  which  of  you  is  called  Wicks?"  he 
asked  easily. 

"What's  that  ?  "  snapped  the  captain,  falling  white  as 
paper. 

"Wicks,"  repeated  the  doctor;  "which  of  you  is  her 
that's  surely  a  plain  question." 

Wicks  stared  upon  his  questioner  in  silence. 

"Which  is  Brown,  then  ?"  pursued  the  doctor. 

"What  are  you  talking  of?  what  do  you  mean  by 
this?"  cried  Wicks,  snatching  his  half-bandaged  hand 
away,  so  that  the  blood  sprinkled  in  the  surgeon's 
face. 

He  did  not  trouble  to  remove  it.  Looking  straight  at 
his  victim,  he  pursued  his  questions.  "  Why  must 
Brown  go  the  same  way  ?"  he  asked. 

Wicks  fell  trembling  on  a  locker.  "Carthew's  told 
you,"  he  cried. 

"No,"  replied  the  doctor,  "he  has  not.  But  he  and 
you  between  you  have  set  me  thinking,  and  I  think 
there's  something  wrong." 

"  Give  me  some  grog,"  said  Wicks.  "  I'd  rather  tell 
than  have  you  find  out.  I'm  damned  if  it's  half  as  bad 
as  what  any  one  would  think." 

And  with  the  help  of  a  couple  of  strong  grogs,  the 
tragedy  of  the  Flying  Scud  was  told  for  the  first  time. 

It  was  a  fortunate  series  of  accidents  that  brought  the 
story  to  the  doctor.  He  understood  and  pitied  the  po- 
sition of  these  wretched  men,  and  came  whole-heartedly 
to  their  assistance.     He  and  Wicks  and  Carthew  (so 

486 


A   BAD    BARGAIN 

soon  as  he  was  recovered)  held  a  hundred  councils  and 
prepared  a  policy  for  San  Francisco.  It  was  he  who 
certified  "  Goddedaal "  unfit  to  be  moved  and  smuggled 
Carthew  ashore  under  cloud  of  night;  it  was  he  who 
kept  Wicks's  wound  open  that  he  might  sign  with 
his  left  hand;  he  who  took  all  their  Chili  silver  and 
(in  the  course  of  the  first  day)  got  it  converted  for 
"hem  into  portable  gold.  He  used  his  influence  in  the 
wardroom  to  keep  the  tongues  of  the  young  officers  in 
order,  so  that  Carthew's  identification  was  kept  out  of 
the  papers.  And  he  rendered  another  service  yet  more 
important.  He  had  a  friend  in  San  Francisco,  a  million- 
naire ;  to  this  man  he  privately  presented  Carthew  as  a 
young  gentleman  come  newly  into  a  huge  estate,  but 
troubled  with  Jew  debts  which  he  was  trying  to  settle 
on  the  quiet.  The  millionnaire  came  readily  to  help ;  and 
it  was  with  his  money  that  the  wrecker  gang  was  to  be 
fought.  What  was  his  name,  out  of  a  thousand  guesses  ? 
It  was  Douglas  Longhurst. 

As  long  as  the  Currency  Lasses  could  all  disappear 
under  fresh  names,  it  did  not  greatly  matter  if  the  brig 
were  bought,  or  any  small  discrepancies  should  be  dis- 
covered in  the  wrecking.  The  identification  of  one  of 
their  number  had  changed  all  that.  The  smallest  scan- 
dal must  now  direct  attention  to  the  movements  of 
Norris.  It  would  be  asked  how  he,  who  had  sailed 
in  a  schooner  from  Sydney,  had  turned  up  so  shortly 
after  in  a  brig  out  of  Hong  Kong;  and  from  one  ques- 
tion to  another  all  his  original  shipmates  were  pretty 
sure  to  be  involved.  Hence  arose  naturally  the  idea 
of  preventing  danger,  profiting  by  Carthew's  new- 
found wealth,   and  buying  the  brig  under  an  alias; 

487 


THE  WRECKER 

and  it  was  put  in  hand  with  equal  energy  and  caution. 
Carthew  took  lodgings  alone  under  a  false  name,  picked 
up  Bellairs  at  random,  and  commissioned  him  to  buy 
the  wreck. 

"What  figure,  if  you  please?"  the  lawyer  asked. 

■ '  I  want  it  bought,  *  replied  Carthew.  ' '  I  don't  mind 
about  the  price." 

"Any  price  is  no  price,"  said  Bellairs.  "Put  a  name 
upon  it." 

"  Call  it  ten  thousand  pounds  then,  if  you  like!  "  said 
Carthew. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  captain  had  to  walk  the  streets, 
appear  in  the  consulate,  be  cross-examined  by  Lloyd's 
agent,  be  badgered  about  his  lost  accounts,  sign  papers 
with  his  left  hand,  and  repeat  his  lies  to  every  skipper 
in  San  Francisco:  not  knowing  at  what  moment  he 
might  run  into  the  arms  of  some  old  friend  who  should 
hail  him  by  the  name  of  Wicks,  or  some  new  enemy 
who  should  be  in  a  position  to  deny  him  that  of  Trent. 
And  the  latter  incident  did  actually  befall  him,  but  was 
transformed  by  his  stout  countenance  into  an  element  of 
strength.  It  was  in  the  consulate  (of  all  untoward  places) 
that  he  suddenly  heard  a  big  voice  inquiring  for  Captain 
Trent.  He  turned  with  the  customary  sinking  at  his  heart. 

"  You  ain't  Captain  Trent!  "  said  the  stranger,  falling 
back.  "Why,  what's  all  this?  They  tell  me  you're 
passing  off  as  Captain  Trent  —  Captain  Jacob  Trent  —  a 
man  I  knew  since  I  was  that  high." 

"O,  you're  thinking  of  my  uncle  as  had  the  bank  in 
Cardiff,"  replied  Wicks,  with  desperate  aplomb. 

"I  declare  I  never  knew  he  had  a  nevvy!"  said  the 
stranger. 

488 


A   BAD   BARGAIN 

"  Well,  you  see  he  has!  "  says  Wicks. 

"  And  how  is  the  old  man  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

"Fit  as  a  fiddle,"  answered  Wicks,  and  was  oppor- 
tunely summoned  by  the  clerk. 

This  alert  was  the  only  one  until  the  morning  of  the 
sale,  when  he  was  once  more  alarmed  by  his  interview 
with  Jim ;  and  it  was  with  some  anxiety  that  he  attended 
the  sale,  knowing  only  that  Carthew  was  to  be  repre- 
sented, but  neither  who  was  to  represent  him  nor 
what  were  the  instructions  given.  I  suppose  Captain 
Wicks  is  a  good  life.  In  spite  of  his  personal  appear- 
ance and  his  own  known  uneasiness,  I  suppose  he  is 
secure  from  apoplexy,  or  it  must  have  struck  him 
there  and  then,  as  he  looked  on  at  the  stages  of  that 
insane  sale  and  saw  the  old  brig  and  her  not  very  val- 
uable cargo  knocked  down  at  last  to  a  total  stranger  for 
ten  thousand  pounds. 

It  had  been  agreed  that  he  was  to  avoid  Carthew, 
and  above  all  Carthew's  lodging,  so  that  no  connection 
might  be  traced  between  the  crew  and  the  pseudony- 
mous purchaser.  But  the  hour  for  caution  was  gone 
by,  and  he  caught  a  tram  and  made  all  speed  to  Mission 
Street. 

Carthew  met  him  in  the  door. 

"Come  away,  come  away  from  here,"  said  Carthew; 
and  when  they  were  clear  of  the  house,  "All's  up!  "  he 
added. 

"O,  you've  heard  of  the  sale  then  ?"  said  Wicks. 

"The  sale!"  cried  Carthew.  "I  declare  I  had  for- 
gotten it."  And  he  told  of  the  voice  in  the  telephone, 
and  the  maddening  question:  Why  did  you  want  to 
buy  the  Flying  Scud? 

489 


THE  WRECKER 

This  circumstance,  coming  on  the  back  of  the  mon- 
strous improbabilities  of  the  sale,  was  enough  to  have 
shaken  the  reason  of  Immanuel  Kant.  The  earth  seemed 
banded  together  to  defeat  them ;  the  stones  and  the  boys 
on  the  street  appeared  to  be  in  possession  of  their  guilty 
secret.  Flight  was  their  one  thought.  The  treasure  of 
the  Currency  Lass  they  packed  in  waist-belts,  expressed 
their  chests  to  an  imaginary  address  in  British  Columbia, 
and  left  San  Francisco  the  same  afternoon,  booked  for 
Los  Angeles. 

The  next  day  they  pursued  their  retreat  by  the  South- 
ern Pacific  route,  which  Carthew  followed  on  his  way 
to  England;  but  the  other  three  branched  off  for 
Mexico. 


490 


EPILOGUE 

TO   WILL  H.    LOW 

Dear  Low  :  The  other  day  (at  Manihiki  of  all  places) 
I  had  the  pleasure  to  meet  Dodd.  We  sat  some  two 
hours  in  the  neat,  little,  toy-like  church,  set  with  pews 
after  the  manner  of  Europe,  and  inlaid  with  mother-of- 
pearl  in  the  style  (I  suppose)  of  the  New  Jerusalem. 
The  natives,  who  are  decidedly  the  most  attractive  in- 
habitants of  this  planet,  crowded  round  us  in  the  pew, 
and  fawned  upon  and  patted  us;  and  here  it  was  I  put 
my  questions,  and  Dodd  answered  me. 

I  first  carried  him  back  to  the  night  in  Barbizon  when 
Carthew  told  his  story,  and  asked  him  what  was  done 
about  Bellairs.  It  seemed  he  had  put  the  matter  to  his 
friend  at  once,  and  that  Carthew  took  it  with  an  inim- 
itable lightness.  "He's  poor,  and  I'm  rich,"  he  had 
said.  "  I  can  afford  to  smile  at  him.  I  go  somewhere 
else,  that's  all  —  somewhere  that's  far  away  and  dear  to 
get  to.  Persia  would  be  found  to  answer,  I  fancy.  No 
end  of  a  place,  Persia.  Why  not  come  with  me  ?  "  And 
they  had  left  the  next  afternoon  for  Constantinople,  on 
their  way  to  Teheran.  Of  the  shyster,  it  is  only  known 
(by  a  newspaper  paragraph)  that  he  returned  somehow 
to  San  Francisco  and  died  in  the  hospital. 

491 


THE  WRECKER 

"Now  there's  another  point,"  said  I.  "There  you 
are  off  to  Persia  with  a  millionnaire,  and  rich  yourself. 
How  come  you  here  in  the  South  Seas,  running  a 
trader  ?  " 

He  said,  with  a  smile,  that  I  had  not  yet  heard  of 
Jim's  last  bankruptcy.  "  I  was  about  cleaned  out  once 
more, "  he  said ;  ' '  and  then  it  was  that  Carthew  had  this 
schooner  built,  and  put  me  in  as  supercargo.  It's  his 
yacht  and  it's  my  trader;  and  as  nearly  all  the  expenses 
go  to  the  yacht,  I  do  pretty  well.  As  for  Jim,  he's 
right  again:  one  of  the  best  businesses,  they  say,  in  the 
West,  fruit,  cereals,  and  real  estate ;  and  he  has  a  Tartar 
of  a  partner  now  —  Nares,  no  less.  Nares  will  keep 
him  straight,  Nares  has  a  big  head.  They  have  their 
country-places  next  door  at  Saucelito,  and  I  stayed  with 
them  time  about,  the  last  time  I  was  on  the  coast.  Jim 
has  a  paper  of  his  own  —  I  think  he  has  a  notion  of  being 
senator  one  of  these  days  —  and  he  wanted  me  to  throw 
up  the  schooner  and  come  and  write  his  editorials.  He 
holds  strong  views  on  the  State  Constitution,  and  so 
does  Mamie." 

"And  what  became  of  the  other  three  Currency 
Lasses  after  they  left  Carthew  ?  "  I  inquired. 

M  Well,  it  seems  they  had  a  huge  spree  in  the  city  of 
Mexico,"  said  Dodd;  "and  then  Hadden  and  the  Irish- 
man took  a  turn  at  the  gold  fields  in  Venezuela,  and 
Wicks  went  on  alone  to  Valparaiso.  There's  a  Kirkup 
in  the  Chilean  navy  to  this  day,  I  saw  the  name  in  the 
papers  about  the  Balmaceda  war.  Hadden  soon  wearied 
of  the  mines,  and  I  met  him  the  other  day  in  Sydney. 
The  last  news  he  had  from  Venezuela,  Mac  had  been 
knocked  over  in  an  attack  on  the  gold  train.    So  there's 

492 


EPILOGUE:    TO   WILL   H.    LOW 

only  the  three  of  them  left,  for  Amalu  scarcely  counts. 
He  lives  on  his  own  land  in  Maui,  at  the  side  of  Hale-a- 
ka-la,  where  he  keeps  Goddedaal's  canary;  and  they  say 
he  sticks  to  his  dollars,  which  is  a  wonder  in  a  Kanaka. 
He  had  a  considerable  pile  to  start  with,  for  not  only 
Hemstead's  share  but  Carthew's  was  divided  equally 
among  the  other  four  —  Mac  being  counted." 

"What  did  that  make  for  him  altogether?"  I  could 
not  help  asking,  for  I  had  been  diverted  by  the  number 
of  calculations  in  his  narrative. 

"One  hundred  and  twenty-eight  pounds  nineteen 
shillings  and  eleven  pence  halfpenny,"  he  replied 
with  composure.  "That's  leaving  out  what  little  he 
won  at  Van  John.  It's  something  for  a  Kanaka,  you 
know." 

And  about  that  time  we  were  at  last  obliged  to  yield 
to  the  solicitations  of  our  native  admirers,  and  go  to 
the  pastor's  house  to  drink  green  cocoanuts.  The  ship 
I  was  in  was  sailing  the  same  night,  for  Dodd  had  been 
beforehand  and  got  all  the  shell  in  the  island;  and 
though  he  pressed  me  to  desert  and  return  with  him  to 
Auckland  (whither  he  was  now  bound  to  pick  up  Car- 
thew)  I  was  firm  in  my  refusal. 

The  truth  is,  since  I  have  been  mixed  up  with  Havens 
and  Dodd  in  the  design  to  publish  the  latter's  narrative, 
I  seem  to  feel  no  want  for  Carthew's  society.  Of  course 
I  am  wholly  modern  in  sentiment,  and  think  nothing 
more  noble  than  to  publish  people's  private  affairs  at  so 
much  a  line.  They  like  it,  and  if  they  don't,  they  ought 
to.  But  a  still  small  voice  keeps  telling  me  they  will 
not  like  it  always,  and  perhaps  not  always  stand  it. 
Memory  besides  supplies  me  with  the  face  of  a  press- 

493 


THE  WRECKER 

man  (in  the  sacred  phrase)  who  proved  altogether  too 
modern  for  one  of  his  neighbours,  and 

Qui  nunc  it  per  iter  tenebricosum 

as  it  were,  marshalling  us  our  way.    I  am  in  no  haste  to 
—  nos  prcecedens — 

be  that  man's  successor.  Carthew  has  a  record  as  "a 
clane  shot,"  and  for  some  years  Samoa  will  be  good 
enough  for  me. 

We  agreed  to  separate,  accordingly ;  but  he  took  me 
on  board  in  his  own  boat  with  the  hard-wood  fittings, 
and  entertained  me  on  the  way  with  an  account  of  his 
late  visit  to  Butaritari,  whither  he  had  gone  on  an 
errand  for  Carthew,  to  see  how  Topelius  was  getting 
along,  and,  if  necessary,  to  give  him  a  helping  hand. 
But  Topelius  was  in  great  force,  and  had  patronised  and 
—  well  —  out-manceuvred  him. 

" Carthew  will  be  pleased,"  said  Dodd;  "for  there's 
no  doubt  they  oppressed  the  man  abominably  when  they 
were  in  the  Currency  Lass.  It's  diamond  cut  diamond 
now." 

This,  I  think,  was  the  most  of  the  news  I  got  from 
my  friend  Loudon ;  and  I  hope  I  was  well  inspired,  and 
have  put  all  the  questions  to  which  you  would  be  curi- 
ous to  hear  an  answer. 

But  there  is  one  more  that  I  daresay  you  are  burning 
to  put  to  myself;  and  that  is,  what  your  own  name  is 
doing  in  this  place,  cropping  up  (as  it  were  uncalled-for) 
on  the  stern  of  our  poor  ship  ?    If  you  were  not  born 

494 


EPILOGUE:    TO   WILL   H.    LOW 

in  Arcadia,  you  linger  in  fancy  on  its  margin;  your 
thoughts  are  busy  with  the  flutes  of  antiquity,  with 
daffodils,  and  the  classic  poplar,  and  the  footsteps  of  the 
nymphs,  and  the  elegant  and  moving  aridity  of  ancient 
art.     Why  dedicate  to  you  a  tale  of  a  caste  so  modern ; 

—  full  of  details  of  our  barbaric  manners  and  unstable 
morals ;  — full  of  the  need  and  the  lust  of  money,  so  that 
there  is  scarce  a  page  in  which  the  dollars  do  not  jingle ; 

—  full  of  the  unrest  and  movement  of  our  century,  so 
that  the  reader  is  hurried  from  place  to  place  and  sea  to 
sea,  and  the  book  is  less  a  romance  than  a  panorama;  — 
in  the  end,  as  blood-bespattered  as  an  epic  ? 

Well,  you  are  a  man  interested  in  all  problems  of  art, 
even  the  most  vulgar;  and  it  may  amuse  you  to  hear  the 
genesis  and  growth  of  The  Wrecker.  On  board  the 
schooner  Equator,  almost  within  sight  of  the  Johnstone 
Islands  (if  anybody  knows  where  these  are)  and  on  a 
moonlit  night  when  it  was  a  joy  to  be  alive,  the  authors 
were  amused  with  several  stories  of  the  sale  of  wrecks. 
The  subject  tempted  them;  and  they  sat  apart  in  the 
alley- way  to  discuss  its  possibilities.  "What  a  tangle 
it  would  make,"  suggested  one,  "if  the  wrong  crew 
were  aboard.  But  how  to  get  the  wrong  crew  there  ?  " 
— "  I  have  it! "  cried  the  other;  "  the  so-and-so  affair! " 
For  not  so  many  months  before,  and  not  so  many  hun- 
dred miles  from  where  we  were  then  sailing,  a  propo- 
sition almost  tantamount  to  that  of  Captain  Trent  had 
been  made  by  a  British  skipper  to  some  British  cast- 
aways. 

Before  we  turned  in,  the  scaffolding  of  the  tale  had 
been  put  together.  But  the  question  of  treatment  was 
as  usual  more  obscure.     We  had  long  been  at  onc« 

495 


THE   WRECKER 

attracted  and  repelled  by  that  very  modern  form  of  the 
police  novel  or  mystery  story,  which  consists  in  begin- 
ning your  yarn  anywhere  but  at  the  beginning,  and 
finishing  it  anywhere  but  at  the  end;  attracted  by  its 
peculiar  interest  when  done,  and  the  peculiar  difficulties 
that  attend  its  execution ;  repelled  by  that  appearance  of 
insincerity  and  shallowness  of  tone,  which  seems  its  in- 
evitable drawback.  For  the  mind  of  the  reader,  always 
bent  to  pick  up  clews,  receives  no  impression  of  reality 
or  life,  rather  of  an  airless,  elaborate  mechanism ;  and  the 
book  remains  enthralling,  but  insignificant,  like  a  game 
of  chess,  not  a  work  of  human  art.  It  seemed  the  cause 
might  lie  partly  in  the  abrupt  attack;  and  that  if  the 
tale  were  gradually  approached,  some  of  the  characters 
introduced  (as  it  were)  beforehand,  and  the  book  started 
in  the  tone  of  a  novel  of  manners  and  experience  briefly 
treated,  this  defect  might  be  lessened  and  our  mystery 
seem  to  inhere  in  life.  The  tone  of  the  age,  its  move- 
ment, the  mingling  of  races  and  classes  in  the  dollar 
hunt,  the  fiery  and  not  quite  unromantic  struggle  for 
existence  with  its  changing  trades  and  scenery,  and  two 
types  in  particular,  that  of  the  American  handy-man  of 
business  and  that  of  the  Yankee  merchant  sailor  —  we 
agreed  to  dwell  upon  at  some  length,  and  make  the  woof 
to  our  not  very  precious  warp.  Hence  Dodd's  father, 
and  Pinkerton,  and  Nares,  and  the  Dromedary  picnics, 
and  the  railway  work  in  New  South  Wales  —  the  last  an 
unsolicited  testimonial  from  the  powers  that  be,  for  the 
tale  was  half  written  before  I  saw  Carthew's  squad  toil 
in  the  rainy  cutting  at  South  Clifton,  or  heard  from  the 
engineer  of  his  ' '  young  swell. "  After  we  had  invented 
at  some  expense  of  time  this  method  of  approaching  and 

496 


EPILOGUE:    TO   WILL  H.    LOW 

fortifying  our  police  novel,  it  occurred  to  us  it  had  been 
invented  previously  by  some  one  else,  and  was  in  fact  — 
however  painfully  different  the  results  may  seem  —  the 
method  of  Charles  Dickens  in  his  later  work. 

I  see  you  staring.  Here,  you  will  say,  is  a  prodigi- 
ous quantity  of  theory  to  our  halfpenny  worth  of  police 
novel ;  and  withal  not  a  shadow  of  an  answer  to  your 
question. 

Well,  some  of  us  like  theory.  After  so  long  a  piece 
of  practice,  these  may  be  indulged  for  a  few  pages.  And 
the  answer  is  at  hand.  It  was  plainly  desirable,  from 
every  point  of  view  of  convenience  and  contrast,  that 
our  hero  and  narrator  should  partly  stand  aside  from 
those  with  whom  he  mingles,  and  be  but  a  pressed-man 
in  the  dollar  hunt.  Thus  it  was  that  Loudon  Dodd  be- 
came a  student  of  the  plastic  arts,  and  that  our  globe- 
trotting story  came  to  visit  Paris  and  look  in  at  Barbi- 
zon.  And  thus  it  is,  dear  Low,  that  your  name  appears 
in  the  address  of  this  epilogue. 

For  sure,  if  any  person  can  here  appreciate  and  read 
between  the  lines,  it  must  be  you  —  and  one  other,  our 
friend.  All  the  dominos  will  be  transparent  to  your 
better  knowledge ;  the  statuary  contract  will  be  to  you 
a  piece  of  ancient  history;  and  you  will  not  have  now 
heard  for  the  first  time  of  the  dangers  of  Roussillon. 
Dead  leaves  from  the  Bas  Breau,  echoes  from  Lavenue's 
and  the  Rue  Racine,  memories  of  a  common  past,  let 
these  be  your  bookmarkers  as  you  read.  And  if  you 
care  for  naught  else  in  the  story,  be  a  little  pleased  to 
breathe  once  more  for  a  moment  the  airs  of  our  youth. 


497 


P%S</S6 
V.  Id 


